


For the Love of Johnstian

by CaptainFreeman



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Fluff, Johnbastian, Johnstian, M/M, Porn, Smut, There is literally no plot, i don't even know what i'm doing anymore, mentions of Destiel, yes bring on the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 20,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainFreeman/pseuds/CaptainFreeman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeming as Jeb, or Johnbastian as some might call it, needs a little love, I went about town collecting tons of cookies and are now bringing them all together in this little fill for the 30 Day OTP Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to all~ So here's the deal. I do plenty of writing, but I am not entirely sure if I will be able to keep up with this. I've been wanting to post on this site for ages now, but have never done so in worry that I will abandon it.  
> Though I promise there will be some hot stuff going on, maybe a little plot, who knows. Something fun!  
> So. Here is my training session for many great times! c: 
> 
> As always, all characters are not mine! This is not beta'd nor britpicked, though I like to think I can try.

 The week had been far too stressful, with far too little time together, John decided. Now it was Saturday, and there was finally time to relax, despite the many errands they would both need to run. Food was important. Very important. Sebastian and him both adored eating, and right now Baker Street was rather lacking of such a lovely substance. That was okay, though, because it meant that the pair of them would be dragging their feet into the nearest Tesco's, grunting like primal animals as they smelled the aromas of everything about. Cleanliness from the mops, but mostly something infinitely better. That being, the nectarous fruits just to their left, the grains of toasting bread, and even the freshness of greens. 

 Smiling, John could feel his stomach positively twisting with excitement. 

"What'd we come here for, again?"

 As the thought slipped his head far too fast, the medic asked, receiving a hearty chuckle from his partner for his mindlessness. It was nice, actually. Surprisingly nice. Something as frivolous as shopping about should be verging on miserable, but right now, it did not. Odd.

"Mm.. I think the milk, Johnny. You said something about it being all gone?"

 Right, that. Good idea, he thought to himself, as they both trudged on, leaving all their yearnings for the deliciousness up front behind. Basket in hand, the doctor let his Colonel down the aisles, even if he looked out of place. No one would expect to see a jumper-clad blogger dragging behind a one-man battalion of the sheer muscles that were Sebastian Moran. Tall, with a plain white t-shirt that really highlighted the silver flashings of his dog tags. It was a very interesting sight.

 On they went, giggling at the strange people they would find. Irony liked to laugh at itself. 

 Finally they arrived to the aisle, and John started what his partner liked to call, 'The Ritual.' It was simple enough. Five minutes of padding around to compare prices, another five minutes of harrumphing, and finally the last two minutes of grumbling about prices, and "God damn it, can't a man have his cereal in the morning without using something the price of gold?" 

 Today was taking a particularly long time. Stress must have made the doctor tired, as he squinted, trying to read in between the fine lines of information offered. A sigh left Moran; sometimes, John overthought things far too much than was necessary.   
  
 "John.."  
  
 Softly, he murmured, trying to gain some attention. This was not working.   
  
 Now, they did not do fluffy or cuddly things in public. Mostly, it was in bed that they snuggled, or in the privacy of their respective flats. This was a bit different, and, Sebastian allowed their hands to brush. It caught John's deliberation, alright, as the doctor picked his gentle hazel eyes up, features softening with one of those adorable smiles he had. Not that Moran would ever call anything adorable- he was just not like that.

 Nothing needed to be said. In the least romantic spot possible, standing by the chilly air of a Tesco freezer, Sebastian grasped the hands of his little blogger. Such a worrisome blogger, too. That was okay, though, because now as they entangled their fingers, a wave of calming air spread through his chest. 

 "I think I'll just get two percent."

 "Good choice, John." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter- cuddling! c:


	2. Cuddling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided to just go along with the plotline, rather than time skipping all about. I don't know. I think I have a basic idea of where I might like to let this go along, so do enjoy! ~

  They returned from the store with minimal trouble. Well. There had been a few small issues, like the fact they were stuck in close proximity in that tiny cab, and that a real snog was not allowed. Sebastian did steal a few kisses, his peachy facial hairs tickling the freshly-shaven cheek of his partner, but other than that they kept it chaste. A miracle within itself, really.

 Back at Baker Street, it was oddly quiet, yet tranquil all the same. For two days now Sherlock had been out of the country, off on some interestingly wonderful case. In Mexico, actually, soaking up the heat in Veracruz. Murders there, he had claimed, were far less insipid than London nowadays. The case was expected to take anywhere from four days to four weeks, depending on how well Sherlock got along with local authoritative figures. That left the flat all to John, and for now, his partner, as they spent lazy mornings in and late nights out. 

 "Home at last." Relieved, John murmured, when the cab was paid for and had zoomed off to hunt down its' next target. 

 "You know what that means." A smile crossed over Sebastian's lips; actually more of a smirk. Just a quirk to that pink mouth, just enough for the medic to notice. Into the familiar house they stepped, bags in hand, while he rolled his eyes affectionately.

 "No.. I'm not in the mood for that right now. Besides. You're only suggesting that so you don't have to put all these groceries away." That caught him.

 Like the bandit he could be, Moran snorted at the close eyes of the all-seeing blogger. It was so hard to get away with the little things nowadays. Sneaking some ice cream in before they went out to eat, drinking from the carton, and especially running all the hot water(though that was more a scam to make John shower with him- the doctor had been reluctant ever since that time he was late for work). 

"That's not true! You make me out to be far worse than I am." Huffing, the Colonel did not say anything further on the matter, as he tilted his head up and made a turn for the kitchen. By now, everything had a place in his mind. The milk went to the fridge, seated on the door. Cans went in the cabinet to his left. Jam? That stayed right on the counter in case of an emergency. 

 When all was set and done, he felt tired from it all. Laziness was a welcomed ultimatum, as he plopped into the living room, seating himself on the sofa, head tipped back. Yes, this was the definition of perfection.

 Yet nothing last. Sometimes, in life, things got worse, and remained to be crappy until someone decides to change that for themselves. Other times, things get better. Luckily, this was the latter of the two options, as suddenly, he heard soft feet banging against the flat. Then a pause. Then abruptly, a weight was thrown against him, and, he let out a shout of surprise, eyes opening just in time to see John pouncing atop his sprawled body.

 "What the He-!"

 "I came to visit!"

 Cheerfully, the medic murmured, bright and chuckling. Soon they had adjusted, John's bum on the couch, legs over Seb's knees, and their arms wrapped tightly around one another. It felt unbelievably comforting, and, Moran began to finally realize why people enjoyed this whole cuddling thing so much. 

 "Mm.. This is nice."

 After a few minutes of contemplation, John mumbled, nose pressed up under Seb's chin, as they snuggled impossibly tight. Not even the will of the participants themselves could separate this golden couple. They nuzzled, they chastely kissed, they pulled each other in closer. Everything was good, and the shorter man found himself grinning, as his Colonel ran a hand through his soft fringes.

 "I love you, Seb."

 A long, long pause. They had only said the words once before, and that had been in the heat of the moment.

 "... I love you too, John." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter is gaming! c:


	3. Gaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this got published far later than I even intended. I'm sorry everyone ;-; A dear family member of mine is very ill, so I am currently their mock-nurse until they either recover or wind up in the hospital. Oi. Anyways, please enjoy~

 Unfortunately, a reality that no one ever seemed to realize was that all great things did have their endings. That being, their cuddling. Somehow their limbs had found a way to tangle, like one big knot of Colonel and Captain. That pleasant Saturday afternoon was turning into evening, and both were most reluctant to leave. So they did not. For long minutes, reaching over an hour, they stayed in one another's arms. 

 "We can't just live like statues forever." That was John, face buried into his partner's chest, muffling his tired voice. Perhaps he had fallen asleep for a short nap- there was really no way of knowing, for they had slipped in and out of tranquility, in that blissful state of relaxation.

 "Yeah, well we could try." Pressing a kiss to John's temple, Sebastian smirked. "I've so many things I could do.. Starting with you, Johnny."

 Crude, crass, and churlish. That was his dear Sebastian, and the medic chuckled, feeling his ear being nipped at by playful pearly whites. It was this early mornings in that gave him the strong adoration he so felt.

 "Mm.. We could do something else. Something unusual. Childish." 

 "Didn't know my favourite army doctor had a daddy kink.. Or, let me guess, it's a diaper kink? How naugh-"

 Just as Sebastian reached in to bit down hard on his lobe, John snorted, pushing him away with a swift roll of his lively hazel eyes. What an utter prat his lover was. That was that. Simple as simple could be, and yet they were still here. Together. They were together, that was the amazing part. Their story was definitely a unique one. Upon meeting in battle all those cold moons ago, the two had been discharged in very polar ways. One was honourable; the other dishonoured. To guess upon which was which, would be mere folly.

 Going their separate ways had been an unconscious decision. No one really wants to split, things just happen. Life being one of those things, actually, the mystic Goddess inching her way inbetween greetings that could have been, friendships that might have formed. They had left each other, because Life was a jerk. She was elegant in her ways, oh how teasing a divinity she could be, and soon after, her smooth hands pushed them back in time. Now here they stayed, settled in comfortably with the closest thing to sane normalcy they could afford.

 "It's not that. Everything's to do with sex when it comes to you, isn't it?"

 "Not everything. I like guns, too."

 Indignant, John eased himself off of the Colonel, amusement splattered over his features. Before any questions might even be asked, he had padded off, leaving a worried Sebastian to ponder if he had said anything wrong. Sometimes Johnny just did not like to hear about the sex- which would bugger him to no end, seeming as he was always itching for some, and no one wanted to bother. In the words of a brilliant detective: dull.

 "John? What's that?" Lo and behold came the enthusiastic medic, box in hand. A smirk had settled itself upon his lips, while he went about pulling controllers from the cardboard and setting up a piece of technology. Was that a gaming system? Nothing fantastical, just two remotes with those spinny things he licked to flick around, and a couple flashy buttons. Enough to catch the eye, at least.

 "Well, I was thinking. We need a distraction. Since I don't feel like heading out, and you've deciding to make.. residency on my couch, I figured, why not? This system's old.. Harry got it for me a while ago, actually. Never bothered to take it out."

 Yes, well. Now it was gaining the sniper's attention. Eyes narrowed, he nodded along, only half-listening as he watched John insert some sort of disk into the telly. Up popped this screen, it was all boxed and squares, nothing to snag his attention. In fact everything was split in half, two vehicles lying in wait for their controllers to press start.

 "Video games? Seriously?"

 "Oh shut up and settle down. Sit on the floor so we can play!"

 Teasing, John ordered, and his partner obeyed. Soon they were back to their pile of limbs- one contented army doctor using Sebastian's body for his personal mattress. It was rather amusing, and soon they were leaning back. 

 "It's simple, Seb. There's a track that you need to run your cars along, and first one that gets to.."

 "..To the end wins, yah. I used to play these when I was younger, you know. Better watch out, Watson."

 And so the doctor did. They both did, really, as the escapade continued onwards. Both were fierce competitors wanting nothing but to prove their skill. That, they did do, and quite well at that. They turned sharp corners and collected those obstructive coins for points. Ultimately John smashed his car up once, and, Sebastian seemed to have no idea what the Hell he was doing, the poor tosser.

 Suddenly. It was sudden, wasn't it? Cheers erupted from the screen as John crossed the finish line, and he lit up just as as the trophy displayed did. It was the closest thing that Sebastian would ever admit to adorable as being. 

 "See, Sebastian? You snooze, you lose. It's okay. Don't feel bad, you're only a rookie. It takes training, I guess, yah?"

 Through all the jeers and taunts, Sebastian never once admitted to the fact that John had been playing on the wrong section the entire time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow- On a date!


	4. On A Date

 Video games occupied a majority of their day, and that was absolutely fine. It was nice, just resting there in each other's lap, teasing and cheering as they respectively won, or lost. Day passed quickly, as it usually does, turning from the brightness of a rare nice day, to the tenebrosity of a cool evening. Such a lazy time was rare; they always had something in their lives to keep them occupied, whether it be optional or completely haphazard. Usually the latter. 

 Still, John was getting a sore bum from sitting on the ground so long, and soon did Sebastian, as they watched the screen with bored eyes.

 "It's Saturday night." A clear enough fact that Moran could agree with.

 "Yeah."

 "I'm bored of video games, Seb."

 "Yeah."

 "Out to town?"

 "Yeah."

 Soon, they untangled themselves with only minimal difficulty. Well. Mostly minimal difficulty. At any rate the telly was soon shut off, the soldiers suited up, and all requiring just four motivational kisses. They headed out into the chilly London air, bundled in their cozy jackets, and settled into the nearest cabbie, who, for the most part, seemed to be relieved that they were not drunk, or snogging obsessively, as couples had a tendency to attempt.

 "Where to, mates?"

 Asked the driver, and Sebastian hummed, giving a look to his partner. Contemplation, yes, what a wonderful thing. Ultimately John murmured the name of a popular Italian restaurant that they had yet to try, and off they went. Angelo's was nice, but the man still teased the medic endlessly about Sherlock, and unless he wanted to spark the jealous fire that was one Sebastian Moran, that was not the most well-thought place to enter. Perhaps some other time, but today was definitely not the day for such anxiety.

 When they arrived, they were quickly ushered inside by some cute girl with soft hair and rosy perfume. Very adorable, John mused, only to hear a rumbling from his tiger. Once seated, he chuckled, while Sebastian asked if they could have some wine- dry Vin Rosé. Tart. Just the way they liked it with their meat.

 "So.. Guess this is going to be another one of those times where we rush off to some place, and never admit to the fact that we're on a date?"

 "Pretty much, yeah." To John's inquiry, the Colonel nodded, eyeing over the menu once more for good taste. Meat had always been his favourite, while his shorter companion always drifted for a pasta dish, with the claims that anyone could throw a slab of food over the grill and push it into a plate.

 "Sweet.. I suppose. I do like these pop-up dates. Random is good." There was a lilt to John's tone, as he rested his chin on his hand, fiddling with his napkin. In the dimmed lights his skin was golden, much like his heart. In response Moran gave a crooked smirk, his nod slow and defined. Thinking. Everyone was doing quite the lot of that.

 "I do too, kitten." 

 For a moment, John softened, giving up on his tease. Obviously tonight was going to be chaste, and, he very much loved when it could be. There were days where they had far too much sex to possibly be healthy, and, that made their relationship verge on worthless, when it did occur. 

 "Thanks, tiger."

 Upon ordering their meals, Sebastian and John spent the evening together. They talked about dull, sundry things. How stressful the week had been, what teams were playing this season, whose experiments had almost caught the kitchen on fire once more. It was nice, and they equally enjoyed it, laughing at stupid things that did not matter, and sighing at the annoyances they had. 

 By the time the bill had come, they both wished that they could stay longer.

 Though Sherlock was not home. They literally had the whole of 221B Baker Street to themselves. It would be a shame, if it were not used. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter- Kissing! \o/


	5. Kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seriously needs a real plot line and not just this random nonsense.

 Everything was set, and done. Paid, check, and mate. Save for the last one, actually, as Sebastian and John both had not done such yet, still sated for yesterday's extensive session. Which was amazing all within itself, seeming as they just loved to make like rabbits. That was an entirely other story, however.

 Night in London was a pretty one, particularly now, as the fog had cleared away to the night sky, revealing the jems that twinkled, like stones on a black dress. Blue, green, yellow. Each little one had such a story to tell. What constellation was it near? Was it the sun to another Earth? Was anyone else gazing up, looking at that same star at the same time? Sometimes people forget the specks and dustings of life have the greatest meaning.

 By the time they exited the restaurant, alcohol of a fine wine was holding them by their ears. Just enough to give that nice bubbly feeling, but certainly not to a degree that they were in risk of being denied a cab. Still, John wrapped his arms around one of his Colonel's, leaning against his shoulder and giggling about something to do with medicine and puns. Cheesy John, Sebastian thought to himself, too bad he was too unsuspecting to know that his puns were quite possibly the worst things on the very planet. Dear God, someone needed to give him funny-lessons.

 "Hey.. hey Sebbie? I once heard this joke about amnesia, but, I forgot it.."

 And God damn it all, because they were both laughing. They strolled down the streets just for the Hell of it, as it was a Saturday night, they were full, and they needed to burn some food off if they were going to have sex. Which was a given. They always had sex on Saturdays. And on Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays.. Literally, it was constant and spontaneous and hot and passionate and it left them boneless, absolutely hanging onto the grasps on consciousness because damn,  _how can John be so great,_ or  _what was that thing Seb did with his tongue God help me I'm barmy_. 

 Neither of them thought about that though. At first, in the beginning, they needed sex to keep them afloat. Too many issues, too much drama. Hard work and effort had been their water, though, and now nothing was ever really needed. Just desired, and an added bonus, but never required. 

 For at least a half hour they talked about literal nothing. It was sweet, and they would occassionally point out a few teenagers and laugh at their hanging trousers, or even joke about their hair- Sebastian had never told John about his own time in high school, where he had once used a knock-off brand of koolaid to dye his own fringes a light blue. It lasted all of two weeks before he decided he did not quite even care what he looked like anymore. Really, he should not have in the first place, so that was that. 

 Their travels were on instinct, and Baker Street seemed to have beckoned them all on its' own. Soon the couple was home, standing on their front steps in the depth of a pleasant evening, while John unlocked the door. 

 "Saw you checking out that waitress's arse."

 Wrapping his arms around John from behind, the Colonel let a curious hand slide down, giving a friendly squeeze to his medic's bottom. It must have past his tests, because he let out a low growl, nipping at a vulnerable ear lobe, and pressing his hips forward.

 "Mm, she was damn hot, I wish I'd gotten her number."

 "Don't try me, Johnny."

 In his arms, Moran turned his partner around, searching his very amused face. No, John loved to tease but he was never serious. A quality that he found to be endearing, not annoying. So with all the desire he did not even know he held, Sebastian reeled forward, pressing their lips together for a kiss. A sweet, lingering touch that left them both in a tight embrace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh whoopsie I hope you weren't expecting smut just yet. 
> 
> Tomorrow's chapter- in each other's clothing ;)


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support- though there is still no plot in sight.

 By the time they stumbled into Baker Street's upstairs, both men were arduously tearing at one another, kissing and pushing and moaning, nails to skin, breath to cheaks, lips to mouths. It was steamy, and at some point a demanding Sebastian lifted his partner up, slamming him against the nearest wall- to which John only growled, tilting his head back and exposing a neck that required more possession marks.

 "Oh.. Christ, Sebbie, I'm getting too old for this."

 "Mm. Yeah. Too delicious, though.."

 Trailing off, the Colonel grunted in a primal manner, the tiger in him coming out, as he took in all of John's scent. Cologne. The cheap kind, but it was soft and mostly disguise by a much more honeyed aroma, like vanilla chocolate melting into some steamy hot cocoa. There was a hint of tea on a late night mingling with.. strawberry? A peculiar odour to associate with John Watson, but the man was a walking ball of confusion, so anything could go. 

 "Seb.. Put me down, yah?"

 Well. That was odd. John was usually very enthusiastic when it came to this kind of thing. So being the obediant man he sometimes enjoyed being, Moran nodded, padding to the sofa and settling his partner down gently, before clambering atop him, all curiosity and no language. There was a yawn, and, it was not from the man with a hard-on forming.

 "God. I'm tired, actually. Can this wait until tomorrow morning?" _Yes, but of course John,_ the Colonel thought to himself, eyes rolling. _You're tired and I'm horny, of course this can wait until tomorrow morning. Of course._

"What? John, you were all excited about this in the stairwell!"

 There was a slightly guilty look from John, who eventually shrugged, pulling himself up and stretching his arms above his head, yawning more wide than he had before. Sleep was sweet, sleep was wonderful, it was everything good in the world, and perhaps if everyone got just that bit more of it, people would be more joyful. 

 "I know. I'm just not in the mood. Tomorrow morning though. I promise." 

 Oh. Well, that did it, and the taller man narrowed his eyes, pratically brooding the entire time John sashaying away, those nice hips of his swinging with his gait. John had a very nice arse, Sebastian declared then and there, one of the nicest in London. It was firm yet soft all the same time, and fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. Sometimes, he wished his army doctor would wear better fitting trousers to showcase that glorious work of art, but at the same point, he was not entirely sure if he was capable of handling something like that. If some pretty arse was right at his disposal like that, he would want to spend all his time worshipping it, not just looking. 

 Shaking from his thoughts, the Colonel grunted his approval of it all, before finally rising to follow after the aforementioned man- straight to the bedroom. It was disappointing that they would forego the rendezvous, but nevertheless he could wait until the sun rose. Though when he arrived inside their shared lodging, the sight to greet his eyes was very interesting. 

 There was John, all suited up in his pyjamas. Well. Not his, per say, but his partner's. The light blue cotton boxers of one Sebastian Moran were drooping off the medic, complemented by a drizzling grey shirt. It was.. Endearing? God, sediments, but yes it was terribly endearing to see the much shorter man all clad up in clothes that were hardly his, or fitting.

 "Oh, hi love.. Mind if I borrow a set of your's? You left them, and, oi, mine are all dirty from.. well. You know from what."

 A knowing smirk crossed over John's lips, which were still so appetizing to be kissed, and it had Moran howling. John was not allowed to be this gorgeous. 

 "Yeah.. no problem. If you don't mind sharing."

 Soon, perhaps because they were still playfully light from the alcohol, Sebastian was crossing the room. Plucking from the floor, he selected a cream jumper, and as he tossed his own clothes, yanked it on. Maybe not the best item he could find as it hardly even covered down to his belly button, but it still reached down far enough to make his partner erupt in giggles. That meant he could not stop there, certainly- if John had no clean pants, he forgot to mention pyjama bottoms, and it took two tugs of clothing sets to dress the tiger up in a plaid accomplice. 

 "Oh my God.. look, your trousers don't even reach your ankles!  _How_ are you wearing them, Sebbie? How do you even fit! I swear, I could put you anywhere and you'd just settle there."

 They were both chuckling now, and some time later they hopped into bed, wrapped up in the protective arms of one another. No one was upset about switching their clothes for the night, and in fact, they were precisely the opposite. 

 "Mm.. You forgot something."

 When the room had gone dark, and both were being quiet, John piped up. It had his partner's attention, and, Moran opened one green eye into the blank night. 

 "Dog tags, hmm?"

 So, off came the set from around Watson's neck, and he lowered them onto the other man's. The process was repeated, and soon they were both clad in a metal chain, but not their own. 

 "Yeah, couldn't forget those, Johnny."

 Pulling said Johnny in to his chest, the Colonel murmured, before they both let their eyes droop close. Sleep came like a welcomed wave to a long day, pressed up in warmth, two bodies yet mended. Dreams could be vicious, night terrors and painful displays of past emotions, but for that night, neither of them quite felt that. Just sweetness, just of each other, just of their lives that had now entangled in this survivable way- and maybe, maybe that was the best part. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter(or possibly later- big huge event thingy coming up, so, very busy. :c) is cosplaying! If anyone has a certain fandom they want done, feel free to comment below and I'll consider. :D


	7. Cosplaying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just a quick shout out to my lovely Unofficial Cheerleader 'R'. Lots of brilliant ideas and so, I finally went with Supernatural cosplaying as that was the only fandom save for Doctor Who that I had any talent with. And by talent, I mean nothingness.

The next morning, John got up long before his partner. Mostly that was typical, as he never was able to sleep much anymore. Hours at a time, perhaps three or four, then he would get up and wander around in search of a mug of tea. Early morning book reading sessions did lovely things to him, even if the agonizing neck cramps the next day failed to cease, a reminder of how poorly he truly rested. 

 However, today was a little different. For once the soldier had crashed for the entire evening, up until the next morning. A bright red light meet his eyes when he ventured into the kitchen- fortunately, he remembered to put some jeans on- and he blearily blinked at the clock, which read a pristine 8:17. Right. Much different from his more accustomed start of 7:30. Still, John hardly minded, and he gave a small yawn while stumbling around.

 An unexpected parcel was awaiting him. Oh, yes, unexpected. That could mean so many things. A bomb, most likely, a misdelivered package meant for the married ones one flat over, or, perhaps even a present for him. As if. Though with all the patience that he could muster, John reached down to the little cardboard box, reading the attached letter.

  _To John- I bought this jacket for you, thinking you might want one of those nice coats Sherlock has. I know how my boys are- you two, always bothering each other. I know it's not exactly like his, what with that man being so fanciful, but this one is far more you. Enjoy! x Mrs. Hudson (P.S. Don't forget to keep it down, you and your friend kept me up very late the other night, you'll wake the neighbours, dearie.)_

Before the medic could get to viciously shredding the box to pieces in his own curiosity, the rebounding noise of slow footsteps meet his ears, and he looked up. There was Sebastian, standing in the hallway, already dressed. There was not much odd about him- just jeans, and a dark black shirt underneath. Atop of that wardrobe he was still clad in the silver dog chain that read 'John Watson,' and, on top of all that? Even more. A leather jacket, greyish and faded, and God it looked terribly familiar. A very sleepy blogger considered it for the longest of times, as the  _click clack_ of boots hit his ears, before he broke into a smirk. Dean Winchester, that was who. Christ.

 "Sebbie.. nice get up."

 "Yeah? I feel like one of 'em bloke you watch, that stupid ghost hunters show."

 "Oh, shut up! You love that show, I know you do. Absolutely adore it, I see you on the edge of your seat the entire time I am, Sebastian Moran, do not even try to lie to me."

 Both of them snorted, indignantly, before chuckling to themselves. Somehow that turned to physical connection, as the Colonel wrapped his arms around John from behind, giving a pitiful mew, one hand faintly trying to lift the man's shirt up, while he gazed with inquisitiveness to the odd little box before them.

 "You promised me sex."

 Though John only rolled his eyes, there was definitely something of amusement to it, as he undid the tape upon the cardboard, leaning back into his partner. Literally, if they could, he would spend all of breakfast time right here, nice and cozy. 

 "I know. I want to see inside this, first."

 So when the mystery was finally coming to a close, the parcel opened, John was choking. Well. Nearly choking. It was the exact same coat that the angel-man wore on Supernatural. Castiel. The one his lover had a very obvious celebrity crush on, though he would never admit it, ever. This was precisely it! Or, in the least it was a very close replica; he had to compliment Mrs. Hudson. Even a set of giggles were coming from Sebastian, who had let up on his tight embrace, instead choosing to hold up the trench coat to his little medic, seeming as it looked like a near perfect fit.

 "Johnny, put that on right now, I'll be back."

 Husky, he murmured, before turning round and hurrying from the room whilst his lover settled for fitting himself, wishing for a mirror in sight. None. Damn. It must have looked fine though, for when Sebastian came back, a velvety blue tie in hand to fix on John's neck, he seemed immensely impressed. 

 "There. Just like the angel. That damn sexy angel."

 When he was finished, Moran rumbled, and John looked down to himself. God. This was hilarious. A small smile crossed over his lips, and he turned back up, shaking his head. He had promised sex, had he not? And the last person who would want to upset Dean Winchester, was Castiel.

 Leaning up, he abruptly pulled his taller partner in for a kiss, one that was full of hunger and demand for someone who was so short. Where there lacked height though, there was fire, that was the most obvious point. And even if they looked nothing like the characters from the show, only in dress, they hardly cared, as apparently they both had a kink for paranormal activity, if their starved endearment had anything to say about it.

 At some point, they got rough. Sebastian pushed against John, tongues dancing against each up, as they groaned and panted and God, suddenly a hand was under his shirt and pulling it up, exposing a chest that gleamed golden.

 "Mm.. And where would your feathery liked to be taken?" Asked a curious Colonel, and he received nothing but a grunt, as his medic recovered from the brevity of it all. One moment they were giggling, then snogging, and now the discussion of intercourse had aroused. They really were skipping stones.

 "Doesn't matter.. I came all the way from Heaven to please you, now make this one damn time I won't forget."

 "Oh.. Cas, you know Dean Winchester doesn't like to disappoint."

 And no, no he did not. While John was off being a tosser and actually chuckling, the other man lifted him up, and quickly settled him on the ground, kneeling besides him. Their next kiss was softer. Much, much more chaste, which was a rare jem between the two of them, and by the time they pulled away, the doctor had let out a moan that was sure to make Mrs. Hudson leave another complaint letter.

 "You look so delicious, Cas.. I need you to help me deal with my chick flick problems."

 Part of John wanted to slap his lover away and explain that there were no 'chick flick problems,' and in fact the two brothers were very masculine in dealing with their miserable lives. Though, at that moment all thought left him as a very impatient man tugged down his jeans, and- Oh, oh. There was a hot friction against his increasing arousal, as someone had their very lovely lips mouthing him through his pants. 

 "Nngh! Oh, some warning, next time!"

 Hands reaching for an off odd sundry item to grasp, John's head flung back, and he let out a quiet groan, totally lulled into incoherence for the moment. They should do this more often. Sebastian had a mouth that could send any man or woman squirming in an instance. 

 When he finally did pull off, the Colonel did his work quickly, yanking down John's pants as if they were currently raging on fire, exposing his Captain to the cold air, his cock springing up, dripping wet already. For a moment there fell silence. It was hot and enticing and lovely and they were both growing desperate, one smug man with a smirk on his features, the other with a blush from his ear tips to his nose. Perhaps imagination could help to identify which was which.

 "God.. I want to have my little angel begging.  _Begging_ , Cas, begging."

 So they were still in this kinky role, apparently. And Sebastian claimed not to enjoy the show- here was the man, freely going about preforming some strange sex ritual of his, using these names and demands. If there was a bigger hypocrite, the world would surely go mad.

 "Oh.. Oh Christ. Seb--"

"Ah, ah, ah!" One hand reached up, grabbing the doctor's cock and giving it some slow, teasing pumps that had John's toes furling in with desire. "It's Dean. Or have you forgotten my name? Should I remind you..? Yes, I think I will. Legs up, hold them in place."

 Not one to disobey an order, and nor had he ever been, John hastily got into said position, his beige trench coat acting like a halo around them, disheveled shirt hitched up to his chest. Two sensitive nipples were now left open to the air, and, Sebastian figured that it would be a huge loss if they were to go unattended. So, leaning forward, he took one into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the course skin and suckling rather hard on it, enough to woo his partner into whimpering, while the stimulation became so much better. Right. A mental reminder was made, that army doctors were particularly respondent to having their glands swallowed at. 

 "D-Dean!" That voice that he shouted sounded somewhat uncertain, as mostly John felt strange not yelling out for Sebastian. Though a command was a command, and that was no less.

 Of course they could not stop there. That would be a tragedy. When both John's nipples had been pinched, licked, and nibbled to drive them both red, Moran pulled away, grunting and stifling a moan at the very wanton man before him, left advertised and needy right before him, like a kitten just pleading to be pet.

 "Dean, Seb, whatever, please.. stop teasing, it's not fair." Sniffled a little voice from below, and who was Sebastian to ignore it? No, he did no such thing, diving in and running his hand over John's bum. Hmm. No, it would take too long to prepare the man, to tease him and make him come right there and then on the cold kitchen floor, so he did none such. Instead, the Colonel gave a gentle squeeze to John's leaking cock, before pulling away, situating his body right between the set of tanned thighs before him. 

 This was fair enough, he mused, and one finger moved up to gently nudge the presented entrance. When he found little resistance, Moran seemingly approved, removing his digit and replacing it with something far better. One hungry tongue, as John held his legs in place, absolutely groaning in pleasure, a noise that rumbled deep in his chest. Pleasure was spreading through every which nerve ending, and he could literally feel his partner move inside of him, pushing and spreading him open with that damn tongue. It was so dirty, so delicious, so perfect, and he almost felt ashamed for enjoying it so fucking much. Of course, almost was different from certainly.

 "OH! Christ! 'Bastian!"

 As he was worked on, John lowered his legs to rest on the other man's shoulders, one hand reaching down to grip his own fat length, neglected for far too long now. It was like a wavy sensation of bliss to finally take himself into his fist, starting slow and ending desperate, slicked up with his own pre-come. And from between his legs, Sebastian was relentless, making the doctor wish he had something to clutch, while his partner panted and pushed into him with his wet tongue. Occasionally, his finger would join in and rub John's prostate, something that made him melt with delight. 

 "My God, Seb, Seb I'm.. I'm so c-close.. I.."

 It was too much. Just too much. Tilting his head, he watched as Sebastian worked him sorely open, and he was most certain the man was having a wank himself. That did it, just the very thought of his lover so worked up, being so diligent and all it took was one sharp twist to his length, and the medic was shouting, keening. Hips arching way off the ground, he nearly threw the other man off balance, as the ecstasy just darted over, starting low and quickly circulating around his body, until every little muscle he had in him, was burning and flaming with total release. Perhaps his lover had came, too, because there was no more tongue invading his pulsating hole. There was, however, long strands of come over his stomach, his cock, and one even reaching his chin, just settling there as if it belonged. Maybe it did.

 "Fucking Hell. Fucking,  _fucking_ Hell, why have we not done that before?"

 When John was still half unconscious in his own glory, he panted, watching as a grunting Sebastian fell down besides him, fly zipped open and cock poorly stuffed back in, but neither of them seemed to care. No, exhaustion wore on them both despite just having woken up, and somehow they went from horny teenagers to cuddly children, as both curled up around the other, arms working as an excellent security blanket. 

 Later, they would clean up their mess, shower, and get back to looking like normal, functioning people who did not do kinky, dirty roleplays as their favourite television actors. For now, they could stand to rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That just wrote itself; apologies. .-. Tomorrow's chapter- shopping.


	8. Showering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't update yesterday- migraines, stress, family. The usual.  
>  Also, today was supposed to be shopping, but since the introduction chapter covered that, I choose some nice post-sex showering. Because why not?

 They would have stayed there, splayed out on the kitchen, hot and sweaty. They would have stayed there for ages, murmuring sweet endearments that were too chaste for the dirty act they had just pulled off, moments ago. They would have stayed there, and never gotten up. 

 Life goes on. Time does not stop for anyone, not even when cheated. Sure it can be managed, the tangling web of minutes and seconds. Those are only measurements, and it really is odd, how those mere words can mean so much. Another minute to say goodbye, another week to spend on holiday, another second to whisper an apology. Just those tiny, miniscule things that should not mean so much, and yet they do, they mean so terribly much to everyone, and no one even can comprehend why until they start to cry. Time. Time is all we have, and it is so incredibly rude, that it will not even wait for the weak ones. They are left behind to crumble. 

 Here they were though, back into the story. Death would not knock on their doorstep anytime soon, so there was no sense in worrying over the seemingly impossible. Instead, John nuzzled into the warmth of his partner, his lover, his friend. They mattered  an incredible amount to each other, and neither understood how they even reached this point of love. They would deny it of course, deny they were ready to settle down, but the two soldiers had found their matches. 

 "Sebbie.. 'm all filthy now."

 Weakly, the medic complained, rolling limply onto his back; such a minute action was bulky and awkward in this position, and the ultimatum was that Sebastian was going to come with him, as he clung tightly onto his mock rag doll. Poor John- he would never have the dignity, or lack thereof, to admit he enjoyed the protective hold.

 "Yeah, and? I like you like this."

 Oh, and did the Colonel rumble. A nice purr, as he reached up, swiping his tongue up John's cheak like a lion would do to taste it's prey. No. No, not a lion, that was too majestic. Something more lingering and striking, something that stalked and could be crude. A tiger, then.

 "Yuck, don't do that, s'gross."

 Too drowsy to even pronounce his words, John complained, to which his partner only chuckled. Without another exchange, they shared a silent look, one that had been used one thousand times and over once more. They needed a shower. 

 "Fine, fine. I'll do it."

 And! Ho, John did need to be carried, that was included in their speechless conversation. After a session like that? Do try to be realistic; Sebastian Moran had just mercilessly shoved his tongue up his arse. There was absolutely no way he could walk from the kitchen to the shower without toppling over from his woozy legs. So, indeed a pair of arms slipped beneath him, and one little Captain was toted from the floor, down the hallways, much like a young child would be. It was an enjoyable trip, nice sights to see, the filthiness of Baker Street and their leftover clothes from the night prior spread everywhere, yes, yes how definitnely lovely. 

 Soon, and he was not positive how it occured, John was standing, naked-how that happened he had not a clue- beneath the hot stream of water, his partner pressed up behind him. That was fast, and finally he was coming into his real consciousness, pressing into his Colonel. Yes, his Colonel, and if Sebastian ever did decide to keep a fading mistress on the side, his ass would be turned to grass so fast, he would not even see it coming. 

 "Hello, princess. Care to joint the rest of us?"

 It came out as a snort, from Moran, as he busied himself with scrubbing his dark blone hair. It was the kind of hair to grease quickly, and required constant showers. Darker than John's golden fringes (probably coloured that way to match his golden heart), the sniper's hairdo was left in half curls. Not like Sherlock's wavy locks, no, but, more like that bloke John always watches on that stupid alien science fiction show. Another series that Sebastian has regretted getting into, and found himself enjoying it despite adamant protests.

 "Oi, new nickname for me? Joy."

 Grumbled John, even if he smiled, reaching for the soap and lazily running it over his chest. Christ, who even cares what they look like anymore? Sighing, the medic was just about to rant about showers, about bathing and soap and how,  _damn it let's stay inside and never go into the world again and not need to get clean,_ when there was a knock. A very loud knock, actually, from downstairs.

 "John, mate! You home? The door's locked, mind letting me in? It's Greg! Look, it's a tad urgent. You'll want to hear it."

 A pause, as the DI listened for noises; breathing, talking, yelling.

 "It's about Sherlock!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow- hanging out with friends.


	9. Hanging Out With Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *profusely apologizes for not updating and accidentally neglecting my two babies* ;^;

Perhaps Sebastian should have seen it coming, but, the fact that his lover had abandoned him in the shower was like taking a flashlight to the eyes after staying in the dark for a short while. It hurt, and was far too sudden, and there was nothing he could do but hesitate. It did not make sense. One moment, he had been scrubbing down an awakening little army doctor, and the next he had been left to fend the coldness by himself. Not fair. 

 "John?" The baritone rumbled, and as a curious soldier peeked out the shower curtain, he saw John hurriedly yanking on some cute red pants he had gathered, and yanking upon his shoulders a bathrobe, his hairless ladylegs poking out from underneath. Adorable. Or, it would be, if he did not appear so worried- within reasoning, though. The words 'urgent' and 'Sherlock' had just been hollered through the flat, so of course he would be all anxious and nervous about his best friend. It was clear that was what they were, though.

 Best friends.

 Best friends that live together. Best friends that eat together. Best friends that laugh over stupid things, and best friends that had walked in on each other for different things, seen each other at their worst. Sometimes it made Sebastian terribly jealous to see his blogger looking at Sherlock, but, that was how they worked. John gave one too many compliments; Seb got jealous, John got spanked. Something in the such, and, maybe it was not the healthiest relationship, but it still worked perfectly fine. Luckily, Moran was not the type to care that much, or be clingy, and deep down he knew where John would really stay. It was with no one. John was his own man. 

 He would stay wherever the adventure lingered. 

 "C'on, hop two Sebbie, Greg's down there waiting!"

 Reluctantly, the Colonel stepped from the shower, and by that point, his medic had already dispersed down the stairs, and into the living room. Hair damp, fingers itching, and face dropped, he spotted an apprehensive detective inspector waiting by the door, arms crossed. The news was not good, and his heart sunk.

 "Greg..? What's wrong?"

 "Oi, mate, ah, it's Sherlock. We were on the case and all, and, he got hurt. Pushed into a river. Nearly drowned, that bastard did, he needed some CPR. Look.. I thought I'd offer you a drive."

 Even Lestrade seemed reasonably disgruntled, verging on upset about the whole situation, even if his tired expression attempted to preach otherwise. Well, it was good fortune for Sebastian to stroll out at that time, untangling his hair, and it was not long until everyone had hopped into the police vehicle, speeding away.

 The ride felt like torture, even if it was only about fifteen minutes. Each pedestrian they passed with a mile marker to John, each building a highway. They might as well have just hiked Mount Kilamanjaro in the time it took to, at long last, reach the hospital. 

 Another twenty minutes later and they were all equally as stressed. Three nurses had pointed them in the wrong direction by now, two child had bumped into their legs, and one man had cut them off when trying to park. Yet there was the room, third floor. When John's hand reached the knob, relief flooded over him to see his very well living friend. In fact, he looked rather decent, if not a little more pale than usual. Lying there, all sprawled out and bored. Well. Almost. A scowl was covering over that, and he glared, as Mycroft settled on the end of the bed, legs crossed. It would nearly look awkward, but Mycroft Holmes was not awkward.

 "Ah, John, Gregory. There you are. I was hoping you would get my child of a brother to eat."

 Offering a smile that was supposed to be welcoming but somehow the opposite, Mycroft murmured. Immediately Greg had nodded, padding over to his close, close friend and giving him a gentle smile. _God_ , Sebastian thought to himself as he watched the exchange,  _when are those two just gonna shag and give us some peace of mind?_

"Sherlock.. Christ, you had me worried!"

 From his side, John scolded, rushing over. The charts were reading signs of hypothermia, but, it was nothing too severe. In response to everything the detective only moaned, rolling his eyes and gazing at the ceiling. Like this, it appeared he was begging to someone to just kill him already.

 "Yes, John, we all know your anxiety problems. Now make Mycroft leave! I cannot breath; he takes up too much space."

 Everyone was chuckling, save for the politician and his brother. Everyone in the group looked contented for once, and yes, at some point Sherlock did eat some soup, but only after John threatened that Sebastian would help kick his arse. Mostly, in that hospital room, everyone remained very content. 

That was, of course, until Sherlock got to his shaky feet, only to fall down. Unconscious. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow- with animal ears (might do an AU for this one, not sure. c: )


	10. Catlock AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically, leaving that little cliffhanger/plot beginner, I'm off with this tiny AU. c: I adore catlock so, please enjoy~ 
> 
> Clarifying: So, in this AU, people can have different levels of cat-ness, but, everyone has ears and tails. Some have whiskers, like John, and in which Sebastian does not. Other can be covered in fur, but for this purpose, neither of the boys are.

"Sebastian, get over here!"

"What, John, what is it now?"

 "Just get your arse over here!"

 Thus began the morning. To some degree, it had been a nice morning. Minimal arguing. Nice, though, between the two of them both. It was just so typical, though; John had gotten up in the middle of the night after a night terror, Sebastian had comforted him. Then that resulted in some early teasing, some more snoozing, and ultimately a restless doctor with the grumpiest face he could possibly put on. Literally. Nose crumbled, eyes crusted with sleep, yawning most constant. If there was a different, friendlier hint to his agitated voice, the Colonel would have found it to verge on adorable.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here Johnny. What is it?"

 Oh. Great. Tail swaying, that big bush of golden fur on end, was the full signal that John was completely and utterly discontent. Which meant that, in turn, Sebastian would be also. A pair of soft, velvety ears were flickering, and his lover could not look more impudent if he tried.

"We're out of milk."

 Deadpan. This one was a bad one, and Sebastian let his own, darker, calico ears rotate in thought. They were really very nice, if his left did not flop, and his right did not have the nick at it's base. At least he was not covered completely in fur though, like some people were. Imagine summer time. At the beach. On vacation. Sometimes, he wondered how John suffered through life with that big bushy tail of his- it required near continuous grooming, and swayed along. At least the Colonel himself had a sleek one, patched in spots of gold and brown alike. 

"Yes. We are indeed."

 Padding over, he wrapped his arms around the soft tummy of his lover, nibbling teasingly at his neck. As if it might actually distract John Watson.

 "We had some yesterday, Seb."

 All he received in response was a hum, and, well, maybe the medic did relax into the touch. Just a tiny bit, pushing back, and tilting his head to expose a canvas of very tantalizing skin to be licked at. So, Sebastian did, before moving up, enjoying the purring response as he suckled the tip of John's ears.

 "I didn't touch any of it, you know. That only leaves one person."

 "And who's that?"

 The question sounded innocent enough, and John spun in his partner's arms, their tails unconsciously tangling. Gazing up, a faint smirk covered over his lips- it took dignity to remind himself that this was a time for anger, not forgiveness. Yet. Sebastian was very attractive as such, all smirks and slyness. 

 John's only response was to kiss all that off Moran's lips, his thin whiskers brushing a stubbly chin.

 "You." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter is a mystery! :D I have not that slightest what kigurumis are, so, I don't know yet. ;;


	11. It's Story Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically I'm straying from the prompts for today due to my lack of knowledge about it, and, here, I spy a tiny plot. :D

Really, John blamed himself. It was not fair, no, but neither was life. So as he felt his heart clenching at the sight before him, the doctor wanted to have seen the signs. After all, it was all in his title. John Hamish Watson,  _M.D._ First there had been the tension, the sweat upon Sherlock's brow. Certainly he had not looked well, not in the least, but the medic had only ruled that off to the effects of the painkillers- and in a way, it was indeed their measly effects. Just not the kind that he was so used to. No, this was more serious. 

 So when Sherlock fell, everyone was on alert. Even Sebastian, who was not exactly the best friend of the annoyingly pompous man, though this did share mutual respect, to an extent. Mycroft and Lestrade stopped their 'secret' flirting, which that in itself was a complete miracle.

 "Sherlock!"

 Yes, doctoral duties. In times of trouble, John Watson was always the first to react, and right now was a perfect example. On quick feet, the medic hurried about, leaning down next to his friend. Pulse. There was a pulse. Breathing; slow but prominent. Pale. Oh, how terribly pale a man might be, as was Sherlock Holmes, slumped over.

 Before everything. Holmes had been trembling, his likeness anemic. Early, he had snapped something about not feeling well, but, no one had quite heard him well over the sound of Mycroft undressing Gregory with his eyes only (a task that was very impressive, Moran had to admit, as he gave his own knowing glance to John). 

 "Seb, fetch the nurses.. Christ, alright. Greg, help me haul him onto the bed."

 Worry was definitely flooding the room, dancing around and strangling all of them- though John was the hardest to penetrate. A straight face remained upon his features as he and the said detective inspector went about their duty and task, hauling a surprisingly cumbersome Sherlock onto his respective bed. Moran, not one to mess with a concentrated doctor, only nodded hurriedly, before whisking around and trotting toward the hallway, flagging down the first medical volunteer he could possibly find. She looked stout, and most bitter, but the nurse would do.

 "Mm.. John.. John, I need to.."

 A voice. Not just any voice, but  _a_ voice. A baritone, one that rumbled like the spraying ocean waves off the coasts of Ireland on a foggy day. Sherlock. Awakened, the dragon himself groaned, feebly trying to sit himself upright. Well. This was a task not very easily done.

 "A bucket, John, a bucket!"

 So, a bucket was found. By the time that Sherlock had disposed of everything in his stomach, as well as the kitchen sink, the nurse had belatedly arrived. No, Sebastian had not done very well in his one job; the nurse scowled at John when he tried to explain, and she pulled a detective up, despite his soft moans of pain. Only after everyone in the room felt like awful people, as well as terrorized, did she confirm their previous knowledge.

 "Oi.. Looks like you've a bit of allergies, yah? Meds don't do too well when you can't keep 'em down, sunshine."

 Nancy- that was what the name tag stated, at least- said, her tone not even one eighth as pleasant as Sherlock's had been, in spite of his ailments. At least the situation was settled; allergies, yes, that was simple enough. God. It was truly no big anxiety, and soon the detective had all new medications to stuff himself with. 

 Two hours passed. From the doorway, Moran had his arms wrapped around John from behind. It felt pleasant, and both were watching a snoozing form of their friend, flatmate, enemy. Anyways. By now, Mycroft had gone off to a secret meeting with the PM (only the Canadian one this time- nothing of interest), and Gregory had trotted off with the claim that Anderson had tried sneaking into the ladies' loo. Christ. Another busy day at the Yard.

 "So.. time we head home, yah, Sebbie?"

 "Mm.. I think so. Sounds about right. I've a few ideas, if you're up for them."

 "Oh, God yes, Bastian." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter- Making out ;)


	12. Making Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all the motivation. ;-; Also, I don't know. My finals are in a week, so I've been beyond busy, as well as sick- not sure how often I can update. 
> 
> Also, I have discovered I've a strong passion for en media res.

No one could see them if they went into the bathroom. That was one of the pluses that no one mentioned about homosexual couples. It was hardly suspicious if they snuck into the loo for a snog, as they could just sneak in with their gender. Mere as that. Whereas heterosexuals, when, one would need to camouflage in, and do the same to make their exit. However, John strolled in, Sebasian pushing him quickly behind. No one noticed. 

 Perhaps Mycroft did- Mycroft notices everything. The CCTV would capture it all, and, he made a mental reminder to delete that film. Yuck. He hardly needed to see his brother's best friend snogging.

 "Seb.. We can't do much here."

 When they entered the empty bathroom, John sighed, and only received an eye roll, if affectionate. Soon, a pair of soft lips were pressing against his, and it caused a moan to surge through his chest, lids slipping over his pupils. Oh. Well, maybe whatever they had to do, could indeed be done in this bathroom.

 "That's okay, Johnny. Just something quick.  _Please_?"

 Well. When Sebastian said it like that, hot breath rolling over the medic's skin, how could he reject it? Their kisses continued, soon after, and at some point John felt a hand roam under his jumper, up his chest- pinching at one of his sensitive nipples. It made him squeak with surprise, blushing profusely while his partner rolled the sensitive skin between his thumb and fingers. God. It should not feel so wonderfully sinful.

 "Oh.. Christ, Sebbie, you're sending me to the madhouse."

 Partially, the shorter of the two chuckled, before reaching up on his tiptoes, arms wrapped around Moran's neck, pressing their mouths back together, locking them there. Tongues were tangling, groans were exchanged, and bums were groped, as the two blindly stumbling backward. At some point, one of their backs hit the wall, and that was when things really got physical- it was lucky no strangers were lingering by. 

 Jumping into the arms of his capable lover, John's legs wrapped around a steady waist, lips totally focused on their kiss. It was hot, and desperate, and hungry and bored all the same, exploring one another for the umpteenth time, possessing. Demanding. Everything was so much, so little, and there was no in between.

 "Nngh.. Bastian, they're gonna' hear us and come in wondering what's up.."

 Argued the doctor, faintly, and said Bastian only smirked, nibbling and tugging at a sensitive ear lobe. Oh well. Screw the opinions of others. They hardly mattered.

 "I know.. you don't mind though, John, right?"

 With a faint twist to the medic's nipple, he teased, and oh, how John did arch, cheeks blown a deep red hue. A nod followed quickly in suit. No one could ignore the commands of an enthusiastic Sebastian Moran, not even the one man who had a clue as to how to tame a tiger.

 "No.. 'course not, Sebbie." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter- ice cream.


	13. Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just three more days until my schooling is finished for summer- meaning, more time for stories! :D

By the time the pair of troublemakers stumbled out of the bathroom, flustered and muddled, everyone within a ten metre radius could have guessed their activities. Shirts out of place, eyes blown, and blushes on both their cheeks. Yes, both. Even if Sebastian would never admit to it, the obvious fact was that John Watson's sweet tongue and gentle lips had made the blood not only rush to his trousers, but to his face. The oddest part of this discovery, was that he was far more ashamed of the latter, than of the former. Silly, silly Colonel.

 "Bastian, 'm hungry now."

 Oh, John and his quirks. His lovely, lovely quirks. They were really very endearing. How his hair frizzed in the morning, pupils bleary. How he always grunted after orgasm. How he slurred after an intensifying kiss. There was his little slur now, and it warmed Moran's heart, giving a chaste kiss to his partner's head, fringes ruffled by the action. God, this was criminal, his John was not allowed to be so perfected in every which way. Why would anyone ever want to love anyone else, when the golden ray of sunshine, John Watson, was smiling and prideful right before them?

 "Yeah? What're you craving, then? Anything you want, you've got."

 "Well, in that case, a house in Boca might be nice."

 The two scoffed; affectionately, nevertheless, and everything they did was always in the likeness. As they were exiting the hospital, they walked unconsciously, not a care as to where they were even going- they had each other, those two war veterans, they did, and that remained the most important artifact.

 "Mm.. how about some ice cream?"

 An innocent suggestion, which came from a damn well not-innocent Sebastian, who was loving the idea of getting to watch his favourite blogger lapping his tongue up and down the cone, cold liquid on hot lips, that little mouth wrapped around, just _made_ for suckin..

 "Ice cream. Let's get some. Now."

 Primal, he answered himself, dragging said favourite blogger along, as they marched onto the busy streets of London. Rays of sun were watching over the layout, the typically cloudy weather of London nowhere to be found. Not that it really mattered; Hell, nothing mattered when he knew he would get to watch John eat his ice cream. 

* * *

 

 "Ah.. some chips, please."

 "That's it, sir?"

 "Uh, yeah. Thanks."

 That was John ordering. John. Chips. John? Chips? No.

 Oh Hell no.

 The mission had failed, and Sebastian watched with wide eyes, which first flickered with hatred to the cashier, then with annoyance to his partner. Everything was in shambles. John was supposed to get his ice cream, have oral sex with it, and do his thing while his partner observed with admiration. Now, the Colonel had a pistachio cone on his way, and a basket of fucking chips. Chips! 

 When they had been given their order, John lead them over to a nearby table, hidden under the shade of the small shoppe, nibbling at a particularly long chip. It was nowhere near attractive, not in the way the Sebastian wanted it to be, and unconsciously he began to sulk. Shoulders slumped, pouting, eyes narrowed as he licked off a dribble of his green frozen dessert. 

 "Something wrong, love?"

 An unsuspecting Watson questioned, leaning back, his charming smile wide as ever. Today was going to be interesting. Christ. All his lover did in response to the question, was grunt, reaching rather aggressive for a chip. 

 This sucked (or, perhaps, lacked thereof). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter- Genderswapped.


	14. Genderswapped AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another AU. Gosh I've literally only written fem!John once, and never have I encountered fem!Sebastian.   
>  So, ah. Here's to hoping this isn't all crap. 
> 
> Also: Bastienne is the female and french version of the name Sebastian- which, I thought suited her better than Sabrina. So. Here's to it;;

"Bastienne, I swear to God, if you took my bra again, I'm going to shove it right to where the sun don't shine!"

 The less than satisfied voice of one Joan came ringing through the hallways, and, it only made the woman lean back, her eyes rolling most extravagantly. Drama Queen- quite literally, too. Gently, she wracked a calloused hand through her blonde hair. It did not reach down as far as her partners', and in fact was more of a shaggy mess atop her head. Never did it snarl, though, which was a plus. Poor Joan spent long mornings trying to brush out her tangles, as her looping fringes reached past her shoulders, with those pretty highlights of brown really accenting the slender trim of her face.

 Yes, her Joan was a gorgeous one, all around. From her hair, to her toes, to her scarred shoulder. 

"Your a bloody size bigger then me, I mean God!"

 Right, the issue at hand. Finally, when she felt prompted to, Bastienne rose to her feet, just in time to watch her counterpart storm through the room, in nothing but a tank top. Well, at least the imagery was rather pretty, as she could get a very nice view of that cleavage. Which was most sinful, Joan should be wearing something to cover it up.

 Well.

 Perhaps not. No, Bastienne could live with it. And right now, God was she living with it. Amusement crossed her boxed features, as she padded forward, wrapping a pair of slender arms around a curvaceous waist. Another perfect attribute to her lovely Joan. Man, the hips on that woman were so stunning. Sure there was the hint of pudge to her waist, but who could possibly care? This was Watson she was thinking about. Joan was everything wonderful on a winter day, cozy sweaters to keep the soul warm, and kittens meowing for milk while the snow tumbles down rooftops.

 "Get. Your Own. Bras."

 Oh, and her threats were adorable. Bastienne chuckled, seeing a set of red-lipstick-stained lips morphing to a pout, which was yet another endearing factor. Christ. Everything was endearing today.

 "I'm serious, Bast! You took my best one!"

 "Alright, alright, keep your boxers on, Joanny."

 "I don't wear boxers, excuse you. They're  _panties_."

 Both women seemed equally amused by this, even if they did not wish to admit it. Hesitant hands wrapped back around Bastienne's waist, and she grinned, resting her forehead against the fragile shoulder of her girlfriend. Well, fragile was not the right adjective- mayhap something pertaining to smooth, comfortable, tender. That was more suitable.

 All was quiet as the two contentedly hugged, embraced, whichever form this was. It seemed, of all people on earth, only these two could snuggle whilst standing up. Miraculous, really.

 "Promise you won't steal them again, 'kay, Bastienne?"

 A harrumph. Joan ran a hand up and down the arching spine in front of her, eyes rolling as her chin rested on tamed fringes of blonde hair.

 "Fine.  _Fine_ , if I must." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow is boring- another clothing style. ^^ So I might write some Cat!lock smut. Don't know yet. Whatever strikes my fancy, I suppose. ~


	15. Catlock AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay- been quite busy, as it were. I'm afraid I won't be able to update tomorrow, but, so in the meantime, have some smut. :D

The kitten was practically naked in Sebastian's lap. They were in the living room, on a certain someone's favourite armchair (Sherlock would be furious, but that was okay). All the innocent kitty had on was his long t-shirt, which he had stolen from the other soldier's wardrobe, and it managed to cover down, over his tenting cock. Out from under it, on the other side, came his elegantly golden tail, puffed and swaying through the air in a very regal mannerism.

 "Mm.. God babe, you look lovely."

 Purring, the also-nude Colonel told John, who was flustered a bright red in response. Both his ears had flattened, and he gave a bashful grin, hands running, teasingly upon the other man's chest. It felt firm; long hours of hitting the gym had certainly paid off, and in utter satisfaction, his whiskers gave a twitch. 

 Soon, their lips were pressed together in a very hot kiss. It was demanding, it was pleading, it was all so much and so little at one time, if that were even possible. Tongues slid against tongues, and someone was releasing an audible groan (John, no doubt, he tended towards being loud in bed, something that Sebastian would never let him live down), but everything felt so  _good._  Not even thinking, the doctor began viciously trying to tug off his shirt, needing to dispose of it immediately. Hardly a useful tool at a moment like this, he mused, as they were all becoming hot and sweaty and desperate. 

 "Nngh.. please, Sebbie, stop your teasing. Get to it alre--"

 Oh, but had John been paying attention, the Colonel had been 'getting to it.' The lubricant was thick in his hands, dribbling down his fingers, when he searched under his partner. 

"Lift your hips higher, soldier."

 Snapped he, the command strong, and soon John obeyed. An insistent finger was pressing at his hole; he groaned, tail lifting up to give the man far better access at his flesh. Plenty of lube smeared over him, and the man was panting, ears rotating and absolutely purring.

 "O-oh! Oh my God! Bastian.. What're you d-doing?" 

 The question was barely asked, as he felt his partner pushing more than just three fingers up inside him. They were brushing against his prostate, and John was left to gaze down, eyes wide as he watched Sebastian smirking. The hand was reaching higher into his body, forcing more into him, and Christ, he could not take this. Four digits, up to the knuckle pressed into his clenching channel.

 "I can't, I.. I don't think.. I.."

 "Shush, Johnny, shush love, you can take it. My hand.. My whole fist, you can take it in you, can't you, love? C'on.. just a bit more. Do it for me. You'll be fine."

 Gentle nips were placed up his neck, and someone was ghosting their fingers down his twitching, leaking cock, which shined with the beginnings of pre-come. Oh, how gorgeous was John Watson, elevated slightly to accommodate the large hand, which was halfway up his arse, and absolutely moaning. 

 "That's it, love. Mmm.. you're so perfect. Taking everything I give you. No worries. I'll make it feel good, make you moan out like a little slut."

 Common words were often passed when they had this kind of sex: new, and dangerous. This was no different, and the doctor began to keen when he heard the word, shutting his eyes and resting his palms on the knees of his Colonel. Pain had faded, replaced with that of pleasure, just enough to give him more bliss than anything. Now that the other man had managed to work him open enough so that he could take his whole hand, and that it felt good, John began to move.

 And move.

And move.

 God did he move, as Sebastian watched, somewhat amazed at how his sexy kitten could thrust down on his hand, head thrown back, constantly yelling out his lover's name, as if his life depended on it. Holmes would not appreciate knowing that they had done this on his armchair, but for Moran, it felt like a marking of territory, his ears twitching in delight at the thought. 

 "Oh.. fuck! Fuck, fuck I'm so close.. Oh God, may I come, sir? Please let me come..!"

 Not having time to consider, and nor did he really want to at this point, the man allowed his sleek tail to slither forward, wrapping around the throbbing length of one John Watson. Soon, the tortishell appendage was pumping, stroking, tightening around the medic and egging him on.

 "Come, John, come all over me, I want to see you."

 The purr from Sebastian was what set John off. Suddenly, bliss overtook him and, oh how he did  _scream_  with pleasure, thrusting and rocking his hips down, tail twitching, ears flattened. Cum lashed from his cock out onto the stomach of his partner, and it was hot, filthy rotten dirty but so terribly hot. 

 In honesty, John did not know how it happened, but soon his partner was pulling him upwards, hand removed from his body, and when the doctor next opened his eyes, their tails were entwined as they spooned on the couch. Everything felt good, and he tingled from all the sensations, pressing his face against a pillow.

 "Mm.. Any good, Johnny love?"

 "Yes.. yes, Bastian, it was very good indeed. I love you." 

 "Love you too, baby." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter- morning rituals.


	16. Morning Rituals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *aggressively apologizes for not updating*

 It was morning time at Baker Street, and still Sherlock remained at the hospital. That allowed John to be as loud as he wanted, while his partner sucked him dry. Really it was of no surprise, they did this quite often, languid hours spent in bed, cuddling and nuzzling against each other, enjoying the presense of one another. Somehow, through it all, it remained innocent. Sweet, perhaps. Yes, sweet was much better a word indeed.

 When both men were beyond satisified with each other- Sebastian had a wonderful mouth- they showered. The cravings of sex were worn off, so they spent their time beneath the flood of hot water rinising each other off, scrubbing and clensing. One certain Colonel made an effort to discreetly squeeze John's arse, though it was hardly very calculated. That was okay. His army doctor was used to the attention, by this point, and only gaze an affectionate eye roll, before hoping out of the bathroom early. Sometimes washing for long periods of time got him impatient, unlike his lover, who would spen lengthy minutes enjoying heated temperatures.

 As he had some time to himself, John quickly brushed his teeth and shaved, allowing the steam to keep him cozy. From the stall besides their cramped bathroom, was a humming Sebastian, some sort of military tune. The lovely git.

 "Breakfast?"

 Called the blogger, almost knicking himself with his blade. Best to hurry along; Sebastian loved it when he did not shave, leaving behind a level of stubble. It drove the military man into his most primal instincts- to breed. Damn it all, that man needed some self-control.

 "Pancakes."

 "Chocolate chip?"

 Oh, and how childish he could be. Cold pizza for breakfast was common- and when John vouched himself to make their morning meal, it was always something silly. Like those sodding sugary cereals, or maybe milk shakes. Today was not nearly as bad as those days, just an order of bacon on the side. And plenty of maple syrup. God save the Queen if Sebastian Moran did not get his maple syrup on his pancakes. 

 The journey of their morning continued, and soon John was clad in his favourite jumper, feebly trying to fry two extra strips of bacon to add to their meal (on request, of course). Their tea was ready, the pancakes were about to burn, the milk was still left out, and balancing everything was growing beyond difficult.

 Suddenly, he felt two arms wrap around his waist, and a gentle mouth pressed a soft kiss to his neck, while flipping their batter. It was a welcomed touch, and John leaned back, letting out a content sigh. Somehow, this entire day felt far more manageable now.

 "Morning, Sebbie."

 "Mm.. morning, Johnny." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter- Spooning


	17. Spooning

Later that day, both men found themselves back where their day began. On the bed. Covers were untidy, sheets halfway off the bed, and pillows begging to be fluffed, but nevertheless they seemed comfortable enough. Odd, the two men were. In the strangest of places they were cozy. When chaos was unfolding at the seems, they did had each other. That was very much enough for them.

 "We should be doing something more productive."

 A lazy, uncaring tone of one John Watson broke through the chilly air, and, he only earned himself an indignant huff from his partner. Okay, so apparently being helpful human beings that wanted to improve their world was ridiculous, in accordance to Sebastian. Okay. Right.

 "Mm.. fine."

 Just then, from behind him, the doctor heard Moran shuffling, before pressing their hips together. One arm coiled around his chest, bringing in the living-teddy bear much closer. Yes, John did indeed make an excellent cuddle toy, and Sebastian hummed his agreement, awarding the blogger with a few tender kisses to the neck. 

 "Not that kind of productive, you twat. I mean we shouldn't just lie around. We should be doing something."

 A chuckle left his partner, who nuzzled gently into the smaller man's neck, their backs pressed up right against each other. Warmth travelled from one body to another, and for once everything was pleasant; everything was enjoyable. No work, no stress, no drama. Just two men with an equal love for one another, who refused to ever let the other go.

 "Well, like what then, Johnny?"

 "I don't know. Something."

 "Nope."

 That was a definite huff, and the Colonel nipped playfully at his lover's ear, who only sighed his agreement. When necessary, he could curl up into the tightest of balls, and now was one of those times, left tugged up and head battered down. Love spread through Sebastian, an emotion he could not ever hope to control. John was his: his to protect, his to serve, his to adore, and that would never, ever change. Never.

 "I love you, babe."

 A soft, hesitant voice murmured. There is no reason in proclaiming whom it was from.

 "Love you too, Sebbie." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter- doing something together.


	18. Doing Something Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Workout Sebastian is my only Sebastian ;^;

It was Sebastian's idea to go to the gym. Overall though, John did come along so he could see his partner sweating, working those flexible muscles and bending over to expose his very lovely gluteus maximus. Which was doctor talk for, he wanted to see that nice arse in action.

 So that was the story of how they ended here, wifebeater-clad and settled with a pair of sweatpants. It made John giggle when he spotted himself in the mirror, and when no one looked he pulled up his shirt, seeing the pudge on his stomach. A long time he might have cared, but as the years went by he just thought, well, screw it. If the world wanted him to look perfect, they were unrealistic, and at least like this he was happy.

 Besides, Sebastian seemed to love his pudge. 

 That was another story, and the doctor quickly pulled down his shirt, as he heard a loud grunting. There, in the reflection, he could spot his partner, working very hard. Extremely hard, actually, doing a large amount of push-ups on the nearest mat, liquid drenching his forehead. God. Why did he need to try so hard, and make John look so lazy?

 "Bastian.. I don't feel like this."

 Sighing, he grumbled, but nevertheless reached for a few weights. Nothing dramatic, and if he tried, he could have achieved a much large amount, but that was the thing. John Watson was not going to try. In fact, the more time they spent here, the more time he wanted to go home and eat greasy Chinese food and watch bad programmes on the telly. Even if they had done that just last week, it was still what he wanted and there was no arguing with that.

 "Aw, poor Johnny. And why's that?"

 Spinning round, the Colonel forced himself to stand up, muscles flexing as he stood there, curiously looking over his partner. Poor John was just in a bad mood today- which did not make sense, as just this morning he had been yelling about his good he felt. Maybe it was just the circumstances.

 "'Cause. Makes me feel fat. My pudge is getting bigger."

 A giggle came from both men, but, only after a rather prolonger silence. Soon, a set of arms wrapped around John, and in this eluding corner, they briefly shared a kiss.

 "Yeah.. but I like it. Gives me more of you to love."

 Gently, the taller man nipped at John's neck, and he sighed, a faint smile on his lips.

 "You're nothing but a charmer, Sebastian Moran."

"Yeah, but you like it, Johnny." 

 "Oh, shut up!" 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter- In formal wear.


	19. In Formal Wear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, just letting you know- I won't be here for the next upcoming week (possibly more) as I'm taking a long summer holiday. No internets, or at least I don't think. :c Apologies, but I won't be updating. Or maybe I will. Maybe I'll set an automatic publish or something, I don't even yet. ;^; Thanks for your ongoing patience, these thirty day challenges are a freaking pain in the arse~

"Do I bloody have to, John?"

"Yes! Yes, now get over here so I can fix your tie."

 The whining never did cease, for God's sake, John could not help but gain the urge to want to smack Sebastian right upside the head. Then maybe somewhere else, for good measure.

 Hmm? Oh, yes, the matter at hand. It was a most complicated one. Dinner reservations for that night at Angelo's had been denied- apparently, 'an unnamed figure' went out and purchased the entire place. Which, the kind Italian man had apologized profusely for, but nevertheless this 'unnamed figure' was inevitably very important, and of high prestige, or else he would have offered the typical costumer a spot.

 Somehow, the doctor had the very peculiar feeling that Mycroft had finally decided to get the balls to ask Athena out. The PA and her boss had been sharing looks, and though it may have been highly unprofessional, they fit one another like a mitten to one's hand. 

 Finally, though. Here they stood. Two men, in the bedroom together, all trussed up in expensive outfits. In honesty, Sebastian looked better as for some reason, he kept his suits more up to date. Though John was adorable as always, he did lack an outfit that was tighter fitting, more outlining to that delicious figure he had.

 And oh, how delicious it was.

 Idly, the Colonel made a side not to take John shopping for suits, if only so he could see that cute little arse of his all perked up and prettied. How he would love to rip it all off, all in one go, yank it down and fuck him raw in the shoppe's bathroom or something kinky like that.

 "Pink, or red?"

 "Hmm?"

 "Pink, or red?" 

 What the Hell was John even talking about, the soldier wondered, eyes following his lover's lips, but not recognizing the words. Too busy dreaming about hot sex in the loo.

 "The flowers! To my suit! Pink, or red, Sebbie?"

 "Oh. Ah. Pink."

 The medic made a face at that, but did not complain nevertheless. Even if his suit was slightly too big for his frame, he always knew how to make himself appear more fashionable. It was actually one of his many secret talents, like making a perfect cuppa, or kicking a man directly in the nuts. Both things he was very good at.

 "Are you even listening to me, Seb?"

 A sigh was leaving his John, and, oh, this was not good, not good indeed. They were supposed to be enjoying themselves- going out to eat and loving the occasion. So quickly, he reached forward, pressing tender kisses up his lover's neck. Who did enjoy them. 

 "Yes, of course I am. I always do."

 "Then act like it."

 They were in a bedroom. Hmm. An idea struck him- they had ten minutes before they had to get going to the restaurant, and, a bed was within a reachable distance. That was certainly enough time.

 "How about I just how you instead?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter- Dancing


	20. Dancing

 When they did finally get going, the pair of lovers were quick. They were soon at the more posh and rather expensive restaurant, all suited up, and settled down in their seats with their meals ordered. How it happened so hurriedly they were not quite sure, but just being with one another was a pleasantry.

 So that was how they ended up here, sitting across from each other, all grins and smiles. There was a gentle tune playing in the background- theatrical music, floating in the air, low notes accompanied by higher, softer hums. Musicians played behind the scenes. 

 God, Sebastian did not want to imagine the price of this meal.

 "Hey, Sebbie?"

 An innocent voice was calling him, and the Colonel glanced up, as he sipped at the pricey wine they had delivered. A gentle hand had then reached over the tabletop, and he paused, feeling their fingers entwined. Him and his doctor. It was nice, Sebastian mused, giving the most tender of squeezes to their hold, enjoying the noise surfacing in the air, swirling and hopping along, filling their ears. 

 "How's about a dance, while we wait for our meal?"

 "Johnny.."

 Grumbling. Sebastian was grumbling, his eyes rolling, and his lover seemed rather confused as to why; though it should be most obvious. Dancing. That was ridiculous, snipers don't dance. 

 "Aw, c'on, please?"

 There was that face, and John must have known what he was doing, because his lower lip jutted out, eyes went wide, and the most dejected gleam twinkled in his hazel eyes. Adorable, but, still he was a little shit for playing these mind games on his partner like such.

 " _Please?_ _"_

Begging. Not fair, not fair in the least, yet Sebastian was huffing and up out of his seat in moments, grabbing the doctor's hand and practically yanking him onto the floor. There, when they were centre stage, he reluctantly clasped their hands against one another, one hand on John's waist, and began to move.

 Finding a rhythm was not the easiest, but so wasn't serving in the military. Eventually they were accustomed to one another, the melody, the ruffling of fabric, the beat. Everything fit in, like pieces to a puzzle settling in. John was resting his forehead to Sebastian's shoulder, and in turn the Colonel was pulling him in, their dance slowed. They stayed like that, then, swaying. Embracing. Two lovers with a need for adventures.

 And it worked. They worked. It worked and that was important and that was wonderful, because they needed each other like day needs night. 

 And so it stays. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter- Cooking/baking.


	21. Baking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so SO SO sorry about not updating, pfft, I lost about a million subscribers because of it. ;^; I just lost the jist of things, and I do apologize, honestly, but this is quite frankly the hardest challenge ever. 30 days is far too long.   
>  Also, I wrote this at one in the morning because the guilt was too much- please, don't judge. .-.

 It was a few days after their time at the dance hall, and John was home alone. Well. Nearly. There was a yelling Colonel in the background, cursing out every single damn television station he came across, describing each one as worse than the other. If his shouting and grunting had anything to say about the matter, it appeared there was nothing acceptable on the telly at this hour- which was understandable. Lunch was around the corner, it was nearly midday. All there was left was soap operas and the occasional judicial show with an overly sassy judge. 

 "The telly's fucked up!" 

 There it was- an explicit curse that John had been waiting for, as he remained in the kitchen, adding one more tablespoon of water into the dish of all sorts of ingrediants. Cocoa, oil, flour. Plenty more which he did not care to list at the moment, including the touch of alcohol, to give it that glamour. 

 "Yes, love."

 Replied John, perhaps snarky, and he smirked as he heard the sound of a rather sulky soldier jumping up, marching right out of the living room, and into the doctor's heart.

 "It's not bloody fair, there's nothing good on!"

 "I know. Nothing. Nothing at all, not on any channels. Nope."

 Oh, and he did love the teasing, even if he knew he would pay for it tonight. In the bedroom. That, though, was a pleasant sort of playing, and he smirked at the mere idea. For the longest time Sebastian has been wanting to use John as his test dummy on some new kinks he had, something to do with wax candles, and neither of them had ever gotten the time to. Well. Now, tonight would be free. 

 Anyways.

 "Ah, shut up, Watson. What're you doing, anyways?"

 John was tempted to say,  _you, in a couple of minutes._

"Baking, love. Chocolate cake. Want to try some?"

 There was but a gruntle of agreement, and, apparently that was plenty much, as John smirked to himself. The last ingrediant, another egg, went into the bowl, before he went about to furiously whisking the life out of the cake. It bubbled, the air rising to the top from his intense stirring, before finally settling. 

 "Stick out your tongue, and close your eyes."

 And so Sebastian did obey, and so John did smirk. Dipping his pinkie finger into the batter, the doctor reached up, bopping a dark brown patch directly onto his partner's nose. There. It fit him well.

 "Oi, what's that?" 

 A giggle. From John, presumably. 

 That was when the Colonel launched his attack, which was far better than any telly program that could ever be offered. With his long fingers, he reached out, tickling the sensitive, and adorably pudgy, tummy of his favourite army doctor, watching while John shouted and laughed, and keeled over. They were both wrestling each other out, chuckling and teasing while doing so. And for now, just now.

 Everything seemed right in the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's Chapter- In Battle


	22. War AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for being so kind about my absence. :D Too kind <3

 The sun beat down on them all, the sweat dripping down their backs. Respiration up. Each man felt the same in the unit, but the Colonel told them to move along, move along deeper into the sand and heat. Every march a mile, they had no other option but to obey. 

 Military men are made to obey.

 "Watson!" 

 Many of the comrades rolled their eyes, albiet affectionately, as the name was shouted out by their leader, their commander. A little teacher's pet was lugging his giant, dusty brown bag, a giant hospital logo planted right over the front. Never to complain, Captain John Watson was one of the bravest of them all, headstrong and a hooligan when the time to fight with guns came upon them. No matter the issue, no matter the stakes, he would dash along and dodge, a miniscule man on the field, reaching for whomever had fallen down this time. Respect for him was generally assumed as a rule, as he dared to do what no one else did, that little medical man with the charming smile. 

 There was not a person there who did not expect the intrepid army doctor to fall to an early death; he could be courageous and strong, but a bullet was metallic and swift. No one mentioned it, of course, but there were a few who would often times express their clouded worry. Stamford, for one, always hanging around his good pal. 

 Then there was Colonel Sebastian Moran.

 Oh, and God, did he worry. Damn everything if his Watson was injuried. No, that soldier was a sliver of gold mined from Mount Olympus itself, and if the slightest bit of harm came to him in any which way or form, the unit was troubled as to what would precisely happen. Something a bit not good, to say the least.

 From afar, he kept a good eye on his favourite soldier, and there was not a doubt that some of the men did get jealous. Late at night when there was nothing to do but share a story over scotch and a fire, they would have loved to take Watson back into their tent. Even Stamford might have wanted that, once or twice. Rumour had it, that before Sebastian and he had gotten together, he had been the talk of the camp. Three Continents Watson, with a glamourous girl waiting in civilization, and a pining man longing in primitiveness. No one could ever get enough.

 "Yeah, Moran?"

 Everyone knew they were shagging. Christ. When would they just announce it already, get the whole ordeal over with? A few scoffs came from the marching comrades, and temporarily Stamford debated over who he was going to beat up next time around.

 As they were in a formation, and Sebastian was marching in front, no one could hear what was exchanged between the two lovers, as the taller of the two leaned down to murmur in his friend's ear. It brought a few heartwarmed grins to the crew, but, no one did question it. There was no reason to. John looked happy, Sebastian was getting lighter with his orders. They made each other better, and that was the best part of it all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter- Arguing :c


	23. War AU Sequel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, anyone else experience the web page crashing last night? Because I did. ;-; Apologies, again. Urgh.  
> Also, I'm donating this chapter to Little R for giving me the idea of Sebbie not being able to stop groping John ;^;

 It was late at night when one of the rookies fell down, injured. It happened, sometimes. The sands of Afghanistan needed someone to patrol them, and it was one of the less experienced men who had gotten hurt. 'Blankie.' That was his nickname, at least, due to the fact that he was often times found cuddling a mass hysteria of pillows and sheets in the morning, despite raging temperatures. Still, he did have the face of a young boy, yet he was brave. In some ways, John could see himself in the man, who was carried in the medical tent by two mates, all full of courage and not even daunted by the whole situation. Which was, indeed, a bit not good. 

 Even Sebastian had come out to see what all the ruckus was about. Head popping in, it made John want to roll his eyes at how the Colonel walked in- dangerously proud and a risk to any man who was screwing about. Of course the men were all worried over him, the rare few scared, but not John. No. He would gladly kick his (supposedly secret) partner's arse without a minute's hesitation.

 "What happened here, Leeland?"

 Blankie, who had apparently changed his last name to Leeland without telling the crew, was looking exhausted upon his bed, leg propped up to display a rather nasty gash. Given to him from a fall, down one of the dunes. It must have been rattling, but it was obvious he had lived.

 "I tripped and fell, sir."

 The tiger was very well sated, and he hummed, watching a certain army doctor on his knees. That arse was just all open to the air, it was terribly not just to him, he thought with an amount of controversy. Well. Who was he to allow it to go untouched?

 No one was looking as he got down next to John, upon his own knees. The kid on the bed had flopped back to gaze at the dull, green ceiling whilst skillful hands wrapped a bandage around his wounded leg, and so there could be no complaints from John about publicizing their relationship. Flirting openly, and all the like. That was something that could not happen, not here and now, not in the middle of a desert with men to lead, who would easily claim favouritism. Or, at least, they could, but that did not mean they would. John was too sweet and innocent, too much a member of the squad, and Sebastian was too intimidating a figure.

 Still, his hand reached out, and he let his fingers roam, taking what he wanted- perhaps too much- from John. They squeezed that bum, receiving a squeak from its' owner, who was trying to make some civilized conversation. 

"So, ah, Blankie mate, I think you should pay attention, and-- Ah, just, tell me if you want me to  _stop_ _."_

Clearing his throat out, John did try to suggest, making sure the bandages were not too tight over the wound, though, it was growing difficult to focus with a certain someone rubbing his arse, mesmerized. Christ. It was like dating a child with an odd obsession for touching things when he was not supposed to.

 "Stop."

 That time, it was an order, but Sebastian was not listening. Not in the least, no, because  _his_ John was clad in these nice camouflage trousers, and  _everyone_ could see how lovely his arse was. Highly unacceptable, and he growled, not even realising that maybe what he was doing was not entirely appreciated, until someone had pulled away, whisked around, grabbed his hair and yanked him to his feet. Something of a pained shout escaped his throat, and soon, Moran was scrambling to find the dignity he had dropped on the floor some time ago.

 "I had bloody said to stop it, Sebastian! And when I say to stop, that means stop!"

 Dazed, and drifting in the aftermath of the glowing effects groping John's arse gave him, the Colonel was looking much like a fool. 

 "You.. for God's sake, we  _talked about this,_ you know how I feel about going out and showing each other off, and for God's sake you said you agreed with me! You said so! And just, for you to.. To go on and touch me like your playtoy, it's fucking annoying. And rude."

 "John, no.. I--"

 "No. No buts. I said no, I told you no, and you ignored me. What if.. I don't know, we were having a shag and you were hurting me? Huh? Then what? Sebastian?"

 Oh, no, this was not what he had wanted to happen, and a rather awkward Blankie was curling away, dark hair brushing over his innocent eyes. Truthfully, he was the last person to have thought the pair was dating, and at the moment looked more than shocked over the news, even if he tried to hide it. 

 "Listen, I wasn't thinking, I just.. I don't know, I.."

 "He doesn't know. Great. You fucking don't know, and you know what? Neither do I! No one knows, absolutely fantastic!"

 Arms in the air, the stressed, exhausted man sighed, all the while marching from the tent. John needed space, time to cool off, and Sebastian was not about to deny him it, not after that outrage. 

 No, and the Colonel was going to sulk about like a lost puppy, snapping at inferiors, until his doctor returned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter- Making up ;D


	24. War AU Sequel to a Sequel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose to even things out, this should also be dedicated to Little R. c: And in all honesty, without their support I don't think I could have done this- I'm almost done and, I'm sorry guys, this challenge is probably one of my most difficult challenges yet .-. I seriously cannot wait until it's over, because, gosh, I feel kind of trapped with it. I feel like I can't begin my other works, that I really want to, until this damn thing is over with. ~ Anyways, thanks for all the support, and, //end mini rant. c: 
> 
> Also, my headcanon is that John swore terribly in the military, but lost it all in civilian life. c:

 "John!"

 Night was just watching the scene from below, offering only a few stars and a dimmed moon to shine over the camp. It had taken a whole half hour for John to blow off his steam, marching on the outskirts, a gun in hand for emergencies. Blankie had been taken care of by one of the men, and brought off to another tent for rest- not without receiving a rather terrifyingly aggressive order from Moran to dare not speak of this to anyone. 

 John.

 John was mad at him, his John, his beautiful John was marching past him and pretending like he did not exist, like he was a ghost that spent its' nights lingering. This felt awful, and it made his stomach clench up unpleasantly. All he wanted to do was hold the doctor and plead forgiveness, do anything he wanted.

 Yes, the Colonel of the band, the head honcho of this entire operation was willing to get on his knees and beg for mercy from a five foot six inch little shrimp with a sassy attitude.

 "John, John please."

 Even his voice sounded pleading, as he scrambled after his no-nonsense doctor, into the medical tent. Everyone had cleared out, as most likely they wanted sleep, not a bunch of shouts and nags from the couple. Plus, they were smart enough to know not to mess with Sebastian Moran when he was upset over anything to do with John.

 "Leave me alone."

 Three little words, and yet they were like taking a knife to the heart and turning. Or worse. Like poisoning the night's dinner and watching everyone die from liver failure. One of the most painful ways to go, really. 

 "John, listen, I know you said you didn't want me touching your arse-"

 "You should've listened!"

 ".. But, I'm sorry. John, this is me. Apologizing. I'm a bloody sniper, I don't fucking apologize to kittens that like fuzzy jumpers, yet here I am."

 Oh, and here came the pouting, but Moran did not care. John had plopped onto his fold out bed, leaning back on his hands, both eyebrows quirked with skepticism. That, and his lips were jutting, the epitome of disgruntlement. That had to mean he meant business, with that look of unhappiness.

 "Yeah? Listen here, you little fucking buggering shit. No one touches my arse like that, not unless their name is John sodding Hamish Watson. You here? And if you damn do that one more time, I'm going to take that hand of your's and shove it so far up your sorry backside, you'll never move again."

 Okay. John meant business, him and that filthy sailor's mouth of his, and Sebastian could understand that, easily. No more arse touching until after hours. That was reasonable, and the Colonel padded forward, resting on the bed besides his partner. It was nearly surprising, enough to make him want to blush- though Sebastian would never admit to it- when the bugger leaned into him, pressing his cheek a most endearing kiss.

"I really am sorry, John. I won't do it again."

 "Good. You prat. Now get over here, and kiss me silly, you big wanker." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter- gazing into each other's eyes.


	25. Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another shot c: Bit of progression, here. ;;

 It was three weeks past since Sherlock came out of the hospital. Without him in the room, and in the privacy of the kitchen, John and Sebastian had decided that it was time they get a place together. A year and four months of dating and kissing and sexting (no one needed to talk about that last one) had lead them to nothing but the eventual inevitable.

Love.

 Yes, a four letter word and- this sentence should end here, the cliché is getting painful. Nevertheless they both experienced equal feelings of yearning for each other, whether physical, emotional, mental, or otherwise. It was as simple as that. Busy scheudles of work and play were getting in their paths of what both wanted most. Time together. A sappy ending to a sappy story about two killers who adored cuddling. 

 A future blockbuster indeed. A few margins and edits, maybe some nice music to go along, and maybe it could be made into some sort of new age rom-com.

 So after a week and a half of intense shopping, they seemed to have found the match for them, nothing less than a miracle. A quaint place in the quieter section of London, if that was such a thing, a flat that needed a few changes, but, they could that themselves. Painting and scraping, all the fun stuff that new couples got to do together. They wanted a modern flat, with an old English twist, and this particular one seemed kindly affordable. 

 Of course, Sherlock sulked for precisely 83 hours after hearing the news of his best friend leaving him, but, he was soon contented after that, with the fact that John was only a fifteen minute walk away. So, a minute part of the doctor suspected he would be having over a (mostly) welcomed guest more nights than not. After all, Mrs. Hudson had once again hid dear Yurik- though he still insisted the skull's name was Jeff.

 Here they sat, though. In their new home. It was large enough to feel quiet with only two people, but, they wanted the space, as adopting children was still in the picture. Perhaps not healthily, they had decided to wait until later to quite talk about that. 

 It was the first night in their new home. The floor was still empty- they had decided to go along and just sleep on a heapload of pillows on the ground, neither quite caring at the moment. A television was wired up for now, and John was seated in front of it, once again watching some (educational) show that Sebastian insisted was stupid. It had a little rat up on screen, preaching about some history or whatever crap. Occasionally, the Colonel swore he heard John humming the songs they sang on that children's programme.

 "Take out?" 

 From the kitchen, which was wide and barren, Sebastian asked. There was something nervous about him, as he shuffled from foot to foot, watching John with an unmatched fondness over his inability to break away from whatever was on screen.

 "Mm. Pizza."

 That sounded romantic. And when the food arrived twenty minutes late, full of fatty grease and hot off the oven, Sebastian was grinning from ear to ear, setting it besides his favourite person. This was how he wanted it to be. Two blokes who loved each other, leaning on big bean bag chairs watching some half-arsed kid's telly show and eating enough pizza to come out their pores the next day.

"Hey, John, mind looking over here for a few seconds, babe?"

 No lights were left, only the glare of the screen. That was enough though. That truly was. Confusion first flickered onto the doctor's face, then bewilderment, then finally acceptance and a flood of happiness. A set of lovely blue eyes could not pull themselves away from the hand offered.

 The hand that held out a tiny velvet box, and inside, a golden ring. A ring. A ring!

 Marriage!

 Suddenly, they were hugging, and suddenly, John had managed to tackle Sebastian with his tiny weight, sprawled over the man's chest, who had fallen back to hit his head on the floor. They were laughing, and then they were kissing, and time had ceased in that one moment.

 "Oh, God yes!"

"I didn't even ask you the question yet!"

 There was a pause, and, John only giggled, eyes wet with joy- so were his lover's, though no one needed to admit that.

 "There's no need, Sebbie!" 

 "You exhuast me, you know that, Johnny?"

 "Yeah, I know. But, you still love me."

 They began to kiss, and, later that night that same kiss would lead to something a bit more physical, but for now, it was just a kiss. A kiss that meant everything. 

 "I bloody do. I love you, John fucking Watson."

 Smiles all around.

"I love you back, Sebbie. Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter- Getting Married *o*


	26. Getting Married

 Everything was small, but that was okay. That was how they wanted it.

 Mrs. Hudson had knitted the boys' ties, actually. Well. Sebastian wore a bow tie after John had insisted they were 'cool,' though they both know that he only wanted it for the same reason they needed something old, burrowed, blue, and new- a certain science fiction television show featuring an ever-changing genocide-prone Doctor had told him so. It was insane, but, his Johnny had wanted it, and so it was to be demanded.

 Molly helped cook everything. Not many people were attending, twenty at the most, and between her, Mrs. Hudson, and Mike Stamford (who mostly sampled and handled the drinks) they got everything done. Of course, Mycroft may or may not have had a hand in purchasing the most expensive ingrediants around, and, the display of elaborate French deserts was in no way his possible idea. 

 Lestrade helped, too, mostly with the fitting for the suits, and the guests. Anderson and Sally were going to be there, and it was their secret mission to assess that Harry, who would be carting along her girlfriend Clara, did not get anywehre near the alcohol. Indeed, there would be no disruptions today. That was this morning.

 And Sherlock. A man who had the right to be bitter, but was instead most helpful. It was odd, he seemed proud of his friend even if he disapproved of Sebastian with all his heart. Yes, love eluded him and was a confusing toxin, but, he managed to grasp it by the tail and comprehend the hype and adoration behind it all. The most important part of this all was that he knew John was happy, and a happy John meant a happy everybody.

 That was, again, this morning.

 Now, everyone was gathered in the church. Lestrade, Stamford, Molly, Sally, Anderson, Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft, Anthea, Sherlock, Harry, Clara, Sarah Sawyer. Everyone that mattered. 

 John and Sebastian were too dazed with each other to think about anything else. Their conversation was held with their eyes as their priest went on, and on. That did not matter though, they could go about this for ages and be perfectly contented with doing so, as long as they could still fuss over the other. Sherlock was the best man.

 Time passed, and they did exchange their rings. That slipped their minds, and in the faint background there was the noise of quiet sniffles from Harry, who was infinitely proud of her little brother. 

 At some point, John heard the agreement that he could kiss Sebastian, and- The Colonel had beat him to it. In fact, the sentence was not even finished. No, suddenly, he was picked up in the air and there were lips pressing hungrily against his own, both their hearts beating faster than the tick of time. A gasp was let out from a very shocked priest, who, in reality was probably slightly repelled by the two men snogging shamelessly. Huh. Who knew Sebastian had so much passion when he wanted to. 

 Claps were given around, and everyone giggled, even Sherlock, at their favourite couple's odd off antics. 

 The festival and party afterwards was one of the best tokens of all, but. Nothing could compare to the honeymoon trip that was very soon to follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter- On one of their birthdays c:


	27. Birthdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost.  
> There.   
> \o/

"I don't want to wear it!"

 That was the tone of a very silly man, one Sebastian, who really thought he was going to escape the birthday hate being placed on is head. There he was at the kitchen table, arms crossed and pouting in a most childish, though endearing, mannerism.

 Ridiculous.

 At least there was the smell of a fresh chocolate cake wafting from nearby. Ever since the couple had purchased the new appliance, which was fancy and pristine, to place inside their hastily-evolving flat, John had not left the kitchen. No, it had caught his attention that he had the new ability to flair his love for all things food and taste. Now, the Colonel mused, come Christmas time, he wanted to buy his lover one of those lewd aprons featuring an unrealistically skinny and muscled right in front, the kind that would make its' wearer appear to have said frame.

 Yes, that would be funny. Not this inane escapade, where Sebastian was strangled into sporting one of these ridiculous caps on his head. It was only a birthday, he had tried to tell his lover, but John was having none of it. Apparently a birthday in this household meant a fucking over dramatic theatre event.

 "Close your eyes, Sebbie!"

 "Oh, kitten, I don't want to!"

 Seated at the table, Sebastian did nevertheless, as he heard the scurrying footsteps of his doctor moving about. Light on his feet, no doubt he was searching for a lighter for the cakes' candles. Soon, the sound of a small crackling flew through the air, and the Colonel let out a slightly irritated sigh. 

 "John.."

"Oi, shut your trap and stop complaining, I worked hard on this, yah? So enjoy it!"

 Indeed he had, if the elaborate design of a dessert had anything to say about it. Vanilla icing had melted itself over the sides of sheer devil's chocolate, and shavings of the sweet had been left on top, all floating around a very ripe strawberry. Even if he did not want to admit he had a sweet tooth, Sebastian could admit he was very much enticed by this cake, which currently held several white and pink striped candles.

 At the sight, the Colonel scrunched his nose, hating the pink. 

"Pink, John, seriously? I hate it!"

 Now, that was definitely not the thing to say, as his partner froze up, spiralling hurt shining in his eyes. The darkness and pain clouded over them, and Sebastian immediately hated himself for saying such a thing. He was willing to get on his knees and apologize, if only to rid John of that saddened, kicked-puppy expression.

 "No.. Johnny, come here. Sit on my lap."

 And so he did, and Moran wrapped his firm arms around his medic, who took condolence in his shoulder blade, where it was safe and warm.

"i don't really hate it. It looks good. I love it, actually, just.. the candles are a little.. Not-me. You know?"

 Turning his head round, John reached out, grabbing one of the aforementioned candles. After a lengthy pause he finally put it out, offering it to is partner's mouth, who was more than content to suckle the frosting well off. Mm. Sweet, tasty, and something purely cozy.

 "Happy birthday, Sebbie." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter- Debated. Perhaps parentlock?


	28. Kidlock AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like the doing something ridiculous, as, I feel like with John and Sebastian, there are not many things considered such. So in lieu, here's some kidlock inspired and prompted by Little R c:   
> Woot woot!

 It was around noon time, and finally John's big sister had agreed to take him to the park, but, only because she and her friends wanted to view the local cuisine. Well. That was what she claimed, and the young seven year old had no idea what that meant, but it sounded fun. John wanted to taste the 'local cuisine.' Maybe not, if he had known it meant Harry was boy-watching, but, c'est la vie, as they do say.

 Now he played over by a small river, peering into the crystal liquid and occasionally pointing at a fish or two, even a frog once. Mostly, he wanted a friend to play with, but no one seemed to take interest in little John Watson.

 Everyone except Sebastian Moran.

 Yes, one of the baddest of the bad, the boy who was not afraid to tell a teacher off, who was no longer on a tricycle like everyone else, no, he rode a two-wheeler, and was a complete badass because of it. Everyone feared him.

 Everyone except John Watson.

 No, one of the most innocent of the innocent, the boy who helped the teachers, who ran home to school because his family could not afford a bike, yes, he did not mind, and was a complete rabbit because of it. Everyone loved him.

 At the moment, Sebastian was determined to woo the other boy, who was a year younger than him. Lucky they were placed in the same grade, they were. Right now, he was zooming by, doing a few tricks that looked daring to even passing adults. One, he called a wheeling, having learnt it from some programme off the telly. It was frightening, even for him, but one day he was going to become some big, brave soldier, and his Pa had told him that meant he would need to face his fears and never be bashful. The world was terrifying, he was told. So grab it by the neck and shake it a bit, and if it trembles then throw it down until you get what you want. Perhaps his parents were rather violent, but, at least never directly to their children.

Yet, John failed to look his way. The entire time, he spent it peering into the water, searching out another animal to play with. Even the butterflies caught his attention, and he talked to them, too, telling the native creatures how his day was going, how his father was promising to get better, how Harry had the third boyfriend in two weeks, and he had not liked a single one of them. The little boy worried. He always worries over those he loves most.

 So behind him, without his knowledge, the bravest kid in all his grade continued to do what he did best. Wooing others. Which at the moment, was not going well at all. Every single person in the area seemed to be peering over him, except for the one he wanted most. John.

 "John Watson! 'Ey, look over here!"

 The shout came, and then was cut off. Suddenly, Sebastian was tumbling and turning, and his body hurt, and that was when he realised he was flat on his back. The sky was above him, sun off to the corner, out of his vision. Sticky stuff was on his jawline, and oh God- it was red, he was dying, he would die right here, right in front of everyone, it was such a shame. 

"Sebastian? Is that you? Oh goodness, are you okay?"

 Somehow though, things took an unexpected twist, and there was little John Watson, right in his face, peering over his body with much concern. Yes, by this point the whole class knew the young boy was inspired to become a doctor, he talked about it every day, how much he wanted to get to help people. Now was his chance. Soon, he had pulled the future Colonel into an upright position, dusting off his clothes, which were covered in dirt stains and pebbles. Mother would be mad, certainly, but would melt when she spotted that he had been hurt.

 "John? Ah, yeah.. yeah, I'm fine."

 Though that was not true. He had humiliated himself, that counted for something, because now he was awkward and wanted to apologize, but it felt out of place to do so. Instead, Sebastian just stiffened, offering an uncertain grin.

 "You sure? You took a pretty nasty fall. It looked painful."

 Opening his mouth, Sebastian closed it. He had an idea.

 "Yeah, it was, but I'll live. Just another scrape for the memory book."

"Really? You were so brave! You didn't even cry!"

 "Mm, well.. You get used to it, Watson, when you do the dangerous stuff I do."

 John was intrigued. Sebastian was happy.

 This was a very, very good beginning, he ultimately decided. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mm. This turned cracky a bit unexpectedly ^^
> 
> Next Chapter- Doing something sweet.


	29. Doing Something Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One. More. DAY.  
>  ;-;

 It was nicer, far nicer than usual at their flat, now that things were beginning to be put together. It was a miracle John was good at reading and comprehending instruction manuals, because his partner would always dive right in, throwing caution to the breeze and heading straight for their goal. Headstrong. For the most part, this do not work out, and it was the medic who would have to do a double take and check up on Sebastian, mostly to find that his efforts were fruitless. Still, they had gotten the new couch installed now, and the microwave was unboxed, needing a few screws which had been lost. Every day Sherlock stopped by, and had been generous enough to gift the couple a congratulatory armchair- just so he could proceed to storm in, sit himself down, and endlessly complain about the lack of intelligence down at Scotland Yard.

 Overall, things were nice.

 Today though, the rain pattered against their windows, and, John was seated comfortably upon his partner's lap. In their hands was a giant photo album, one that Mrs. Hudson had been kind enough to make up for them, claiming that a home was not a home without its' memories. 

 Finally, having gotten the chance to look at it, John and Sebastian were able to share their reminiscences and giggles with one another. Their current image to look at was that of a flower- slightly shriveled and full of mud, it was held in John's hand at the time- which was very bandaged up. 

 A story all of its' own.

"Christ, remember when you wanted to have a date in the park? What was that? Our second date?"

 That was John, who laughed, while Sebastian only jutted his lips and pouted, wrapping a possessive arm around his lover. Well. So what, he just did not like to think of the fact that he, the brave and wonderful Colonel, was actually capable of doing anything less than perfect.

 "Oi, shut up, Watson. I tried! For fuck's sake, if I had known there was a wasps' nest, I wouldn't have trekked for that damn flower, y'know."

 Chuckles were spread around, and John leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to a rather stubbly chin. Razors, right. They needed better ones, if this house was going to become anything better than what it was. Still, the memories was sweet, and he did not want to let it fade, not ever. 

 The next photo was that of John and Sebastian making nothing less than a duckface at the camera, which was presumably held by one of them, right in front of a nearby Starbucks. It was not taken in London, but instead, was dated back to their first weekend out exploring nearby cities.

 "I wonder how many of those teenage girls we scared away." 

 Idly, John mused, recalling how they had tried to imitate the aforementioned girls, only to end up very well near pissing themselves with laughter. God, the things they did, they  _do,_ they were headed straight for an asylum and giggling all the way there. 

 "The snogging probably didn't help the fact, either?"

 Hummed Sebastian, nipping a few mindless kisses up his medic's neck, enjoying the steady heartbeat he felt, which matched up to the tune of the falling raindrops just outside their door.

 "Mm. Probably not. But I sure enjoyed it."

 "Yeah?"

 John paused, in thought, then nodded agreement.

"Yeah, I did."

"Well. Want to enjoy it again?"

 No hesitance.

"Oh, God yes." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter (bittersweet? Partially~) Doing something hot c;


	30. Doing Something Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've finally, finally finished this, and God there is such a relief ;-;  
>  Of course, it is tinged with the sadness that comes with ending any extensive work, but, at least I can stop stressing over this. I promise to start spewing out more fics now that this is out of the way, and so, without further ado, please enjoy~ 
> 
> Okay, another thing;; I'm dedicating this chapter to my cheerleader, Little R. R, you've been here for me the whole time, and your comments brighten my day. So this one, I know I had promised I would do it a while ago, but, this one is to you. Stay awesome, you lovely person you <3

 For a man who could be surprisingly quiet when need be, Sebastian was very vocal about his kinks. They came sporadically and could be rare, but when he found one, he really  _found_ one. So it was perhaps a mistake to let him watch day time telly game shows, where the women would wear those skin tight dresses, ones that were revealing and on the verge of inappropriate, in some cases.

 John was not complaining, however.

 That was how they ended up here, with the medic pushed up against a wall, his clothing not typical. No, right now he had an exposing dress on, a shimmering red to match his uncomfortably high heels. That, and the equally as crimson g-string on underneath, but that was for later.

 "Mm.. John, thank you for doing this."

 Hungrily, whilst nipping p his partner's neck, the Colonel was murmuring,a a more animalistic side coming over him. John. John Watson. His John, his lovely John. _His._

A groan was all he received in response, and with that, Sebastian managed to yank his partner up, grunting while carrying him into the kitchen. Once there, anything on the table was thrown aside, onto the ground, so Moran could lie down his partner, hiking John's ankles onto his broad shoulders. This of course, opened his legs, and, the tiger nearly went feral when he saw the flimsy lace to hold in his doctor's bulging length.

 "Oh.. you're going to like this, Johnny.. Mm, John.. Mine. My John. Mine. All mine."

 Grabbing rather roughly to hitch John's dress up, he forcefully pulled it up, his one free hand running over a slightly pudgy stomach, feeling, exploring, pleasing. All the while he leant down, nipping into the tender inner flesh of the other man. It felt nice under his lips, and there was no doubt that he left more than one or two possession marks behind.

 "God.. Sebastian! Oh, yes, your's, all your's."

 Meanwhile, John used his own hands, running them over his chest, squeezing his nipples through the fabric of the dress, which was not nearly satisfying enough. God, he loved this, and occasionally came close to arching off the kitchen table, when a particular sweet spot was found.

 That was, until his lover had thrust two slicked up fingers right into him, the strings to his lingerie pushed to the side. 

 When that occurred, John  _did_ arch, a strangled shout caught in his throat, as his lover leaned over his needy body, pressing bruising kisses up his stomach, up his dress, hiking it up more and hoping that John would not get mad at the fact he had managed to rip the edge of it in his haste. Everything was rough, it was getting roughed by the second, and as per usual Watson was making enough noise to summon a storm, but, Seb did not mind. No. He enjoyed it all, and he leaned down, yanking the top of the dress down enough so he could suckle his lover's reddened nipples. Maybe they would need to experiment with clamps next time, he decided.

 As this position would not work out for them entirely, Sebastian added a third finger quickly, immediately finding the familiar prostate that his partner was so sensitive to. It was lovely getting to see John roll his eyes back, whimpering and pleading for more, squirming out like this. So exposed. So open. It was bloody stunning.

"FUCK ME!"

 Finally, the shout came, and Sebastian would not disappoint. QUickly he threw the lubricant (which came from his pocket, John would begrudgingly learn afterwards) aside, removed his fingers, picked up his medic, and marched them to the living room. There, his blogger was pressed up against the arm of the sofa, legs spread wide open, face pressed up against the sofa. Gorgeous, he looked, pants yanked down just enough, and dress high enough, so that his full arse was on display, just how Sebastian liked it.

 "Mm, you ready, love?"

 Leaning over the smaller man, he rumbled, feeling the shudder ripple through John, even from here. Soon the doctor was nodding, and so without hesitation, Sebastian thrusted himself into that tight entrance, gasping and moaning at the wave of pleasure.

 Then, he thrusted.

 God, did he thrust, rugged and hard and John was near screaming, his dress tight around his body and ripped all over the place, his dripping cock rubbing up against the sofa with every movement they made. It felt good, it was so fast but it was good, and that was what mattered.

"Oh, God.. You little slut, mmph, You like my big cock, yeah?"

"Yes, yes! Oh, so very much, fuck, harder, harder!"

 It was filling John up, it felt so large and he felt stretched, but God, the doctor did love it. Suddenly, unexpectedly, he was shouting Sebastian's name, the pleasure bursting through him, while he rutted desperately against the arm of the sofa. Moran was quick to follow, pumping himself into the smaller man rhythmically, groaning and shivering with the overwhelming bliss.

* * *

Soon after, both men were cuddling up on the couch, and that was when Sebastian leaned in to press a tender kiss to John's nose. This. This was what he loved, this incredible man right before him.

"Hey, babe?"

"Yeah, Seb?"

"I love you."

 A quiet hum came from John, who was tucked up into his chest, snuggled up and looking just about as adorable as ever.

 "I love you too." 

"Always?"

"...Always." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for following along on this journey with me. See you next fic!


End file.
